Going Down Swinging
by Spitfire47
Summary: "That's the thing about us Carl, we're two perfect loners." Carl feels helpless as he is forced to watch as both groups head into a collision course with each other. While Lyra struggles with her own conscious and sanity as the relationship between Carl and the wrath of Negan collide: the line between life and death. Carl/OC AU Final Part of Anamnesis
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Walking Dead.**

* * *

A thin trail of blood slowly wormed it's way towards Carl. The teen just stared at the thin droplet as it staggered towards him, inch by inch until it stopped. Carl's eye followed the trail of blood all the way back to the mangled body which had once being his best friend Glenn Rhea.

His stomach flipped as he looked at the body. It had being a very long time since he had being disturbed by a body, there were no thoughts going through his mind, only an emptiness that seemed to expand. Carl could hear Maggie cry hysterically as she collapsed to the ground completely drained, he dared a look at her feeling her emotion ram into his heart. Looking back at the ground feeling completely useless, Carl closed his eye feeling it water.

The teen felt something lift his head up and he opened his eye to see Negan standing over him. Carl felt the blood on the sadist's hand drip down his front staining his front.

"How 'bout we give you a new career change?" Negan smiled.

Before Carl could react, hands grabbed him and pulled him upward. His legs had lost feeling from being forced to kneel for a long time but when he felt his muscles return to his command Carl did the only thing he could.

The teen elbowed one of his holders hard in the face feeling his nose crunch underneath the bone. Carl whipped around and tried to punch the other but something hard came down on his shoulder.

"Argh!" Carl groaned as Lucille dug into his skin. He fell to the ground, hearing loud protests from his friends and family behind him.

"Negan!" his father shouted angrily.

The leader grabbed Carl by his wounded shoulder and threw him to the ground.

"Anyone fucking moves and I'll give him a proper introduction to Lucille!" Carl felt the barbed wire poke into his throat, already a thin line of blood dribbled down his skin. He looked to see everyone tense, even Daryl despite his injury. It looked like the hunter was going to go rogue anyway. But everyone remained, the Saviours positioning themselves accordingly.

Rick gritted his teeth in frustration at feeling so hopeless. His hands were balled so tight into fists that his fingernails dug into his skin. From the very day that he had found out Lori had died, he had promised himself he would take care of Carl no matter what. And he had kept his promise, through and through even allowing his brutality take the reins in order to protect his son.

Now it was all crumbling down because of one sadist, but that man had killed Glenn, a young man grown into his own – a husband and _was_ soon-to-be father.

"Let him go," the father said darkly. A shadow cast over his face as he stared down the other leader down. Carl shifted trying to get up but the prongs pierced deeper.

Negan gave a sick grin. "All you have to do is give me double supply caches and I will give you, your killing machine back."

Rick gritted his teeth, unconsciously balling his fists. The Saviours closet to the man gripped their weapons ready to attack but Negan motioned them to come back.

"For every supply cache, I'll let you have a visit with your son."

Rick strained as hard as humanely possible against the Saviours who held him. Everyone could feel the energy emit from their leader and wanted nothing more than to attack the leader. Michonne made the first daring move and the butt of a rifle struck her across the head knocking her out cold.

"Michonne!" the teen shouted.

"Stop!" Rick shouted sensing his own people getting anxious. He looked over to see a couple Saviours trying to tame Abraham.

"Once we're gone you can take your shit and pack up," Negan said tossing Carl over to Dwight.

Carl felt his arms being pulled behind his back as tape was wrapped around his wrists. Another strip went across his eye effectively blinding him. He was tossed on the ground in the car feeling the space sink into his stomach making him gasp. Doors opened and closed over Rick's shouts and screams, the son could easily picture his father's enraged face. But in the end, unable to do anything. The father could shout all he wanted, but in the end he couldn't do anything – not if he wanted _everyone_ to die.

"Hold on kid," Negan's voice said, "you're going home."

XXXXXX

Carl woke wth a start. His eye darted back and forth in desperation to see where he was. It was still mostly dark but there was a speck of light peaking from the horizon through the trees.

"Wakey, wakey kiddo."

Carl looked over with a tired eye, he first saw Dwight silently leaned against the car. Kneeling beside the teen was another Saviour who was tending to Carl's wounds, giving attention to his damaged shoulder. He bit his lip as the gauze tightened against his skin feeling where the rubbing alcohol had bit.

Then his eye travelled to the other side to Negan who was sitting in the passenger's side, the door was open so his feet touched the rough ground. He was the one who spoke and was watching the teen carefully.

"You were bleeding heavy, thought you'd keel over and die from one hit."

"I'm going to kill you."

Everyone stopped. The atmosphere turned ominous and it felt like the oxygen had being sucked straight out of the air.

Carl could feel everyone's eyes on him but he didn't care. His only sight was on the man who had brutally murdered Glenn.

However Negan didn't seem at all fazed by the threat.

"Wicked tongue boy."

"Where are we?" Carl demanded. " _Argh_!"

"Watch your tone boy," a Saviour snapped lowering his hand.

The leader raised a hand. He got off the seat and walked in front of Carl who had a hand against his bruising cheek. "My Saviour does have a point and I'm tired of your daddy not taking me seriously."

"You killed my best friend!"

" _Rick_ killed your best friend," the leader corrected. "Your father was the one who wanted to get into this, who wanted to interrupt in my business by killing my Saviours, contacting Jesus and such."

Carl didn't respond, however his heart tap danced against his ribcage so hard that he was sure that the enemy saw it.

 _I can't,_ Carl thought. _I need to be strong like everyone else, I can't let him see anything I don't want him to see._

"So long as you do everything I say, you'll get to see your dad," Negan continued to explain. He twirled Lucille in a tight circle so she landed lightly on his shoulder. "Well...I suppose you'll have to listen to _her_ as well."

Carl raised an eyebrow, "her?"

A small smirk played on the man's lips. "However I don't think you'll be a problem either way, in fact you aren't off from her age."

Carl bristled and was about to speak when the leader cut him off.

"Put a bag on him, I want her to be surprised."

Carl felt his arms being pulled back, his teeth grit as a shot of pain ran up and down his right arm giving it a numbing effect.

"Wait," the teen shouted. "Wait, who is she?"

"You'll see soon enough boy."

Carl continued to put up his meaningless struggle. Even though he knew it was a loosing battle, Carl continued to fight – it's what his father would do.

"Get off me! Get off!" the teen shouted kicking around in vain. He twisted and turned until a punch folded in his stomach and a hand gripped his wounded shoulder. Carl grit his teeth together in pain feeling a light gasp escape his lips.

"Shut up."

The cloth was pulled tight and Carl looked up in time to see the bag flip over his head – turning his world dark.

XXXXXX

Now blood leaked from his nose, it was numb and Carl wondered if Jordan broke it. His eye was only for Lyra. There was a rush feeling course through Carl's body as he looked from one to the other, despite her ragged appearance it was clear Lyra was still trying to fight for whatever she had left. But despite his father's attempts to shield him from the fights, Carl knew that she was loosing - terribly.

"Do we have to work together?" the teen asked quietly. He saw the frowned expression on Lyra crease even more giving her almost an aging appearance.

"Yes," Lyra answered, her voice was cracked and ugly.

"Do we have a choice?"

"No," Negan smirked at the teen's audacity.

Carl looked back at Lyra now seeing how gaunt she was. Her shoulders were slightly hunched as if a heavy weight was pressed hard against her, and it was clear she hadn't eaten in days.

"Double bullets," the leader ordered.

"That's impossible," Lyra responded.

Without warning, Lyra's head snapped back as she was thrown off her feet. She clutched her bloodied jaw where Lucille had struck. Carl stepped forward but Dwight came up from behind and wrapped the teen in a tight bear hug.

"Fucking bitch," Negan scowled, "you think you disrespect me?! In front of fucking company?"

"Leave her alone!" Carl shouted before he could stop himself.

Slowly the leader turned to the teen who struggled against Dwight's tight grip. Negan grabbed a handful of Carl's hair forcing him to look up. The leader turned back to Lyra who ruefully rubbed her jaw, while with the other hand used the table to get up.

"Careful with this little fucker," Negan lightly warned, a sick grin spread over his face. "Thinks he's his father, going 'round acting all tough and such."

"So what the fuck am I supposed to do with him?" Lyra demanded angrily, her eyes narrowed at Carl.

"As I said," Negan threw Carl at Lyra who caught the teen awkwardly. "He's your apprentice. Make him useful or he's target practice."

Negan signalled his men to start heading back. Lyra pushed Carl off her who staggered slightly to keep his balance, she stepped forward as her mouth gapped open and close. Struggling to find words that were jumbled in the apprentice's mind.

"We'll be back in a week," he called over his shoulder. "Best hope that your daddy has all my supplies."

The two captives watched in a tense silence until the door was closed completely. Lyra stole a glance at the teen who had a hardened glare on his face. Neither spoke, for a while even after the metal door slammed shut. The apprentice couldn't believe that Negan had dropped Carl off to her. It seemed that he didn't know that the two had previously being acquainted.

Lyra turned to Carl.

"Come on kid, let's get you cleaned up."


	2. Chapter 2

The tires screeched across the dirt road. The RV came to a lurching stop with such force that it nearly sent everyone in the vehicle to the ground.

"Shit Rick!" Abraham chastised, he held out his hands just in time to prevent his head from smashing off the dashboard.

The leader ignored him getting out of the driver's chair at lightning speed and kicking the door right open leaving a dent in the metal.

"Jesus!"

Rick paced in front of the Hilltop Colony gates like a wild animal in a cage.

"Jesus!"

A man ran up to the gate revealing to be Gregory. He didn't seem to pleased that the man was shouting.

"What the fuck?" he demanded.

"Open this fucking gate!" Rick screamed rattling the fence.

"Shit, shit man, fine."

Greg nodded to a pair who unlocked the gate. Before either had a chance to open it fully Rick slipped through and immediately marched to the main building. Greg immediately followed, slapping a hand on the enraged leader's shoulder.

"Hey wai- _argh_!" Greg clutched his heavily bleeding nose. Other jumped to his air while a couple went after Rick but there was a shout behind them. Greg looked back to see Abraham and a couple other people desperately waving their hands and shaking their heads. Despite his _personal_ opinion, Greg knew that Hilltop couldn't afford to loose people. "Leave him alone."

The Hilltop citizens looked incredulous but followed Greg's order. The second-in-command looked over to see Daryl leaning against Eugene for support while a still unconscious Michonne was supported by Rosita and Sasha.

"What happened?" he asked.

Inside the building, Jesus and another colonist were going through their current supplies. There was a nervous jitter running through the atmosphere as they anxiously awaited Rick's group. They didn't have to wait long.

The door slammed open with force and Rick immediately walked over to the man. Jesus straightened ready to speak when Rick grabbed him by the lapels and slammed him against the wall.

"What the fuck?!" Jesus cried.

Guns rose in the air with a clap of hammers being pulled back.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Rick demanded.

"Wh-."

"Negan! Why didn't you tell me?"

Jesus struggled trying to break the man's grip but it was iron.

"I tried," the man shouted back. "But you thought that you could take him on, that you could save everyone and make a nice home for your fucking kids!"

With a roar Rick threw Jesus against the wall and he coughed violently.

"Rick!"

Abraham ran up and pulled his leader off the still bewildered man. The colonists immediately helped Jesus to his feet.

"He took him!" Rick said trying to get him to understand.

Jesus raised an eyebrow clearly not getting it. "Wha-"

"My son, the fucker took my son!"

The room turned eerily quiet as the atmosphere changed dark.

"Sorry," Jesus muttered pathetically.

"Did you know?" Rick demanded, his hands in tight fists.

"What?"

"Did you know that he did this? This...this sick shit?!"

Jesus shook his head. "Stealing people from groups? No... never heard anything like it. He has so many to begin with..."

"Where is he taking him?"

The man ran a hand over his face. "Damn if I know, the Sanctuary maybe?"

"'Maybe?' What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Jesus narrowed his eyes. "It means that you fucked up so much that he decided it was worth stealing your son."

Rick tried to attack Jesus but was held back. Tension rose in the room as some colonists stepped forward ready to restrain Rick with or without Jesus's order.

"What did you do?" Jesus demanded. "What did he say?"

Rick's eyes went downcast for a split second. When he looked up he made sure his mask was on.

"He want's double supply caches."

"Double supplies?!" Jesus repeated incredulous.

Rick waved his hand dismissively. "There's more important things to worry about now."

"More important things? Like what?!"

BANG! Everyone in the room turned to see Rosita standing in the entrance, a smoking handgun held above her head.

"Maggie and Daryl need a doctor, and we need to bury the dead."

XXXXXX

Carl felt Lyra's fingers gently press against the tape holding the gauze against his throat. He couldn't help but tense as she pressed in.

"I'm not going to kill you kid," she muttered, "relax."

Lyra was quite surprised that Negan had bound Carl's wounds, but the tape they had used was coming off so she was using duct tape.

"I'm-," Carl immediately shut his mouth as soon as the word escaped. What could he say to Lyra? The young woman he had a crush on basically since the first day she arrived. It was slightly confusing and still surprising for the teen to find her of all people here, but unfortunately under Negan's control.

Once the leader had left with the Saviours, Lyra had shown him around the shop. Where they would sleep, what the rations were looking like and how to make bullets. Carl had seen Eugene make bullets more than once but had never actually paid any attention to it, so he now understood a bit more of the intricacy.

"You what?" Lyra demanded, her eyes narrowed. She was still peeved about Carl's audacity.

Giving the apprentice an equal glare, Carl shook his head.

She finished taping the gauze and went to stuff the supplies back in the bag. Carl touched the tape knowing that it would hurt like a bitch taking it off.

"Here."

Carl looked over to see Lyra handing him half a biscuit.

"I don't need it," the teen said, knowing that they didn't have a lot. "I could probably go a couple days without eating." Carl knew he's probably had better meals in a single week, than Lyra had in the entire three three months she's being here.

However Lyra shook her head and placed it in his hand.

"Don't be an ass."

She walked around him and went to the work bench leaving the teen slightly perplexed. He always knew Lyra was a bit open about her opinions and could sometimes be harsh with her words. Lyra's voice through, took it over the edge making her sound like a crow. It wasn't the same smooth husky tone that Carl had grown fond of.

"What?"

Lyra's voice snapped Carl back down to earth who quickly turned on his heels to the small loft looking over the shop.

He climbed the ladder and sat on the edge seeing the metal tables and tools. Some door looked like they had being forcibly ripped off with something.

"How did you do that?" Carl asked, slightly surprised.

Lyra stopped what she was doing. "I can't remember."

The teen found the response a bit odd, but didn't press any more.

"What does this place look like?"

Lyra raised an eyebrow, "what?"

"On the outside I mean."

The apprentice frowned and walked up to him. Carl noted that she was limping when she walked.

"Don't get any ideas boy," she warned, "Negan finds out he'll beat you within an inch of your life."

The image of Glenn's mangled corpse flashed in Carl's mind causing him to take a slight breath. His hands balled into fists.

"He killed my best friend," Carl countered bitterly. "There's nothing more than he can do."

"Look at me boy."

Carl did. Lyra walked over to the ladder and stopped right in front of it. The teen wasn't sure what he was supposed to be looking at, he was about to speak when Lyra looked down at the ground. Carl followed her gaze and his eye landed on her knee brace.

It was a cruel contraption. The brace went a quarter way up her thigh and down her calf, the metal looked old and had being roughly scrubbed in order to get the rust off. Small metal screw heads were visible and Carl's stomach flipped when he realized that Lyra had screwed the brace right into her knee.

Her jeans were re-modified to accommodate the brace with ties at the bottom.

"Wha...," Carl didn't know what to say. What words there to say? Lyra looked up at the boy, her hardened eyes briefly cracked.

"Tried to do something stupid, maybe I relied on people too much to do the right thing," Lyra said walking towards the backroom. "Or maybe it was because I was just stupid enough to think I could fight him."

"Why?" Carl asked. Usually he'd pull an expression when he was thinking someone was being stupid. And to him, Lyra going up against someone like Negan was quite dense. However he kept it out, finding himself strangely curious.

Lyra merely shrugged.

"Come on boy, I want to show you something."

Carl jumped off the platform and ran over to Lyra who opened the door to the backroom and he saw wooden stumps nailed into the wall.

"What is it?" the teen asked.

"Look up."

Carl's looked up and saw the building

"The ceiling on the room had collapsed, when I was clearing it out I noticed that it went higher. So I climbed until it took me to the second floor."

"Wait...second floor?"

Lyra didn't say a word and started to climb. After a few seconds, Carl followed. His hands were a bit shaky as his feet sometimes slipped on the wood blocks. His lack of perception also made it slightly difficult forcing him to exaggerate turning his head so that he could see the next block.

On the second floor Carl struggled to climb through the hole.

"I got you!"

Hands lashed out and grabbed hold of his upper arms. Carl used the last wood block to push himself upward while Lyra pulled.

"I'd suck to lose my apprentice on his first day to a supply room."

Carl let out a mirthless laugh.

"Come on boy."

The teen got to his feet and followed Lyra to a staircase that was still intact. They walked up to the third floor and Lyra nodded towards the dirt streaked window. Carl walked over and felt his heart jump into his throat.

He counted about a hundred – well he tried to count at least a hundred. Realistically, Carl stopped counting after he hit ninety because deep down it scared the shit out of him.

The walkers were practically walking over top of each other as they ambled about the grounds. Penned in by the barbed fence, they moved to and fro. A couple looked up to see living flesh staring down at them, low moans echoed louder as some arms outstretched skyward in mock prayer.

"Holy shit," Carl whispered in disbelief.

"Top it all off with a three story jump and you've got a brilliant excuse to stay indoors."

Carl didn't reply.

XXXXXX

"I've heard things from other Saviours," Greg admitted, nervously he ran a hand through his hair before continuing. "Apparently someone pissed Negan off, and I mean big time."

"Fucked up bigger than you did," Jesus added from the sidelines, noting to Rick.

The leader scowled.

"Anyway, Negan was going to kill her but she was some sort of apprentice."

Rick immediately perked up, "wait...apprentice?"

"Yeah...trade apprentice or some shit like that."

"Welding?"

Greg shrugged. "Dunno. All I know is that she was placed in some factory with walkers all around 'er. Negan filled the yard with them, so she would't escape."

"What's her name?" Rick asked, his voice rose.

Greg shrugged again. "Dunno."

With a slight frustrated sigh, Rick ran a hand through his hair. If it was her...could it be her...? Rick knew she was strong and independent, however back when the Governor attacked Rick had seen her go down. There was blood on her as she tried to escape into the forest.

"Is it Lyra?"

"He doesn't know," Jesus reminded. "What the fuck is it to you anyway?"

"Because she used to be in _my_ group."

The room went quiet and even Jesus straightened.

"You mean..."

"She was an apprentice welder before the apocalypse. We found Lyra in a shed half starved and took her in, in exchange she helped design and build for us."

"Damn..."

Rick turned to Greg. "Are you sure that Carl is there?"

"He could be there or at Sanctuary," Jesus answered.

"Why would he be placed in the factory?"

"You forced Negan to use a lot of bullets that he didn't want to use. If he wants double supply caches then he'll want his bullets back as well."

Rick shook his head. "Carl doesn't know how to make bullets."

"If that chick is worth Negan not killing her – then she'll sure as hell know how."

The leader pushed himself off the table and paced the room. He wished Daryl was here, the hunter had no problem giving his opinions in situations like this. Rick also wished Michonne was here, he needed her ferocity to help counter the building pressure that was pressing down on him.

"Doesn't matter if he hid your kid in a fucking hole," Jesus scowled, "you're not going to get him."

Rick whipped around sending a withering glare at the man.

"It's a shitty time to go dumb Rick, you know that your son if probably under lock and key right now. You can't save him, not unless you follow Negan's orders."

There is was. The one thing that Jesus wanted Rick to do. To give in. To follow the rules and play ball; to save his group from more pain. But Rick couldn't do that, he needed a plan.

"I'll find a way."


	3. Chapter 3

The day progressed and Lyra had Carl do a couple batches on his own but she stayed close by to make sure he did it properly. Lyra was surprised on how fast Carl caught on, having only needing to be told mostly once.

They took breaks here and there. Lyra had to stop not only to fix her brace, but also to wrap Carl's fingers. Sometimes he's touch the melting pot accidentally, while other times he would pinch himself or handle still hot bullets. It was clear he hadn't being around any trades.

"Shit you're bad at this," Lyra smirked as she held Carl's hand under cool water.

"I bet you were bad when you started," he countered.

"I had all my fingers by the end of the day, if that's what you're getting at boy."

"Well I count ten still on mine, _girl_."

Lyra smirked.

"You're lack of right-sided perception will take some getting used to for sure. That may be why you're getting injured so much."

Carl touched the fresh gauze over his eye.

"It's a fucking pain."

Lyra snorted as she nodded to her knee. "Wanna switch?"

That shut Carl up.

The day changed to night at a slug slow pace. Lyra had explained that rations would probably come in next day and because there were now two mouths to keep fed – they'll be larger than previous.

"Negan would want to keep you nice and healthy probably," Lyra surmised, begrudgingly.

"Why?" Carl asked as he broke a stale biscuit.

"He has a lot of supplies but I doubt he'd want to anger your father anymore."

"Fuck that, I hope my dad tears him to pieces."

Lyra raised an eyebrow, sure the man was strong but she wasn't sure Rick could tear anyone to pieces. Also it was the teen's tone that caught her attention the most.

"I've seen him do it," Carl clarified seeing the apprentice's apprehensive stare. "He...he..."

Lyra watched him carefully, the faint felled expression didn't escape her sharp eyes for the brief second it had happened.

"He just did it," Carl finally finished before taking a rather large bit of the biscuit. Lyra watched as he turned slightly, knees slowly drawing closer and closer to his chest as his body took a defensive posture.

Lyra didn't say anything at first. She nibbled a bit on her own portion.

"You never did say how you lost your eye."

Carl swallowed. "It got shot out."

"I'm sorry," she said sombrely.

The teen didn't say a word. Instead he merely got up from his seat and got back to work.

XXXXXX

With Glenn's body they travelled back to the Alexandria Safe-Zone. The ride was a lot quieter as the adrenaline from the horrific night waned, replaced by a steady stream of guilt, despair and depression. Maggie was silent the entire way, absent-mindedly cradling and rubbing her belly. Everyone else was sitting in their own thoughts.

At the Zone they quietly returned to their places, disappearing. Michonnne had woken for a few minutes on the ride down but went unconscious.

It was night. Cloud blotted out the stars making the atmosphere more tense and ominous. Lamps were lit throughout the streets but Rick took no notice to the light. Even the stringed light above flickered once in a while but that too remained out of the leader's perception.

Michonne stirred as her eyes slowly opened. Rick straightened immediately and rose from his seat, hovering over his lover protectively.

"R...rick," the swordswoman moaned. Her body stiffened as movement returned to her limbs.

"Take it easy," the lover advised, "you have a major concussion."

Michonne closed her eyes as a strong pain pulsed through her head. A flash of Carl took her by surprise and her eyes sharpened as she looked Rick in the face. "Oh god...Carl...!"

She looked over at Rick who didn't hide his depressed and angered expression. Carefully she took the man in her arms and felt him pressed his face into her shoulder.

"Rick," she murmured gently.

The leader felt his body instinctively tense as her fingers trailed across his skin. However her touch soothed him in a way, despite what was going on. He intertwined his fingers with Michonne's as she continued to pet his hair.

"I'm sorry," he muttered once he found his voice. Rick closed his eyes feeling them water for the first time in a long time. "I'm so sorry."

"We'll get him back," Michonne said firmly.

"I messed up."

Michonne drew Rick in.

"You have a strong son Rick, you made him and taught him what he needs to survive. Carl has instinct."

"Carl is not alone."

The lover listened as Rick told him what Gregory and Jesus has spoke. She was quiet at first taking in what she had heard.

"Are you sure?"

Rick nodded. "They seem positive."

"...Lyra...I saw her go down in the forest Rick."

"She must've survived and got in the path of the Saviours."

"She would be a great tool for Negan and his thugs."

Rick nodded. Michonne looked at him knowing there was more, she stayed silent for a couple minutes and gave Rick's hand a comforting squeeze before soldiering on.

"What's going to happen with Alexandria?"

Rick shrugged. "We do need them...and they need us if they don't want to admit it. We're a part of this now, together."

"Gregory isn't going to like that statement."

The leader hung his head knowingly.

An excruciating week passed and Rick managed to get enough supplies scrounged for a double cache. Problem was that there was quite literally nothing left for the remaining Alexandrians. All had no problem expressing their intense dislike for having nothing to eat for a couple weeks over 'some kid'. Luckily Abraham was there to quell any oncoming fights.

Glenn's funeral was last night. Rick spoke well about the young man giving him credit for his life entirely. Maggie was there but didn't speak, still being in such shock that Rositta and Sasha stood close by just in case.

After the funeral, night had fallen. Rick made the rounds, more doors were slammed in his face then remaining open for his trying nice words. His last stop was Abraham and Rositta's place.

"Can I speak to Abraham for a minute please?"

Rositta didn't hide the slight annoyed expression. She knew that Rick was starting to rely more and more on Abraham, and while it was necessary especially with Daryl still in the medic bay. Rositta was starting to worry slightly that Abraham would accept a job that would get him killed.

"One minute," she answered bristling.

Rick knew he was hitting a chord with the young fierce woman so he nodded quickly. Abraham gave his girlfriend a quick peck on the cheek before stepping outside gently closing the door behind him.

"What's going on?" Abraham asked keeping his voice low.

Rick motioned him off the porch.

"Denise gave me an update on Daryl," the leader said, "he's going to be out for a little longer, the bullet did more damage than expected."

Abraham nodded however knew there was more.

"I'm sending Heath and Tobin out tomorrow to look for some supplies, I'd like you to go too."

"You want me to find where Carl is held, don't you?" Abraham said, being able to read between the lines.

Rick ran a hand through his hair as he gave a defeated nod. Looking back at the door, the ex-sergeant turned to his leader.

"That's fucked up Rick."

"I need you to d-."

"I ain't a hunter, I ain't Daryl. Don't get me wrong I'm worried 'bout your boy, but do this and there's a good chance you'll never see him again."

"I need _something_ Abraham," Rick urged. "Even if it's a direction in where he's held, I don't fucking care!"

"What you need is to trust that you're son is capable of handling himself." Abraham saw a ghost of a dark expression past Rick's face, but he didn't give a shit. "You said that it's possible this Lyra chick is with him right? She knows shit, and will keep him safe."

Rick balled his fists.

"You don't know her."

"Well maybe not, but she's his only chance right now. You're trusting Tara, and she was with that fuck-up you told me about."

"This is different Abraham," Rick said lowly. "She wasn't a civilian, she was a prisoner."

XXXXXX

"That's more rations then I've gotten in months put together," Lyra commented with utmost seriousness.

Carl found himself a little surprised too as to how much they had received. He looked back at Dwight with a suspicious look in his eye as if suspecting the Saviour to just snatch it away suddenly. It would be a cruel trick – but not out of Negan's league.

"Go on boy," Dwight said, "take it or else you and your girlfriend can eat all this shit off the floor."

Trying hard not to blush, Carl allowed an aggressive expression dominate his face as he snatched the bag off the table.

Lyra had noticed that Dwight had a holstered wooden club wrapped in leather hanging from his belt. It was a new accessory that the apprentice knew was specifically for Carl. Whether the teen took notice or not, she took note that Negan was going to some lengths not to kill Carl. Why? How the fuck should she know? Usually Negan would just order an ironing on someone who was being disobedient. But being away from the Sanctuary, something else had to be done to get Carl's attention.

 _So long as they aren't killing him._

Without a word the Saviours left. Once gone, Lyra took the bag from Carl and headed back into the main shop.

"Bandages, tape, biscuits, meat and fresh fruits and vegetables," Lyra called out setting items on the table. "Damn boy, you must be some kind of lucky charm."

"Fuck luck," Carl said sending half of the food to the ground in one swoop of his arm.

"Hey!" Lyra jumped off the stool and started to pick up the thrown food. She glared at the teen who gladly returned.

"Why are you eating that?" he demanded.

"Because maybe I want to live!" Lyra snapped, "because I'm trying to live! You want to have a fucking pity-party and hunger strike fine by me but do it on your own fucking time!"

The anger started to slowly die out of Carl. He started to realize his anger never lasted as long as it had when he was back with his group. It was an odd feeling, one that he couldn't really explain, however he was never running out of glares.

"Why do you work for them?"

Lyra's scowl was so sharp that Carl felt like he was a child again getting a firm scowling from his parents.

"I don't work for them," Lyra said, her husky cracked voice pierced through the teen. "He's got me here just like you."

Carl opened his mouth ready to speak but immediately closed it.

"I've noticed that they've also added a new weapon," Lyra said, by Carl's expression she was right – the boy hadn't noticed. "A wooden club wrapped in leather specifically for you."

Carl tensed. "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Means if you fuck up then you get hit, if you really make a mess you get beaten. Maybe not to death like your friend, but definitely within an inch of your life."

A violent image of Glenn's mangled corpse flashed in the teen's mind again, tormenting his thoughts as he remembered the gore drip off Lucille.

"It's a way to keep you in line," the apprentice added, "so _don't_ fuck up."

Taking in a slight shaky breath, Carl managed to calm himself down before asking.

"So how does he make _you_ stay in line?"

Lyra paused, her fingers drummed lightly against the table.

"With the iron."

Carl raised an eyebrow, he was about to inquire when Lyra interrupted him.

"If you aren't going to eat, then get to bed. It's being a long week."

Hesitantly, Carl walked over to the closet and started to take off his clothes. He changed into a loose top and thin material jogging pants before coming out. Lyra was waiting patiently for him to finish, once out she walked in without a word.

Carl realized that he may have said the wrong thing. But he also revealed something interesting, something new about his enemy – the iron. Whatever it was though it had seemingly scared Lyra into silence.

He looked over to see on the table was a biscuit and a couple crab apples. Carl wasn't hungry, actually he was – but he was trying hard to convince himself that he wasn't. Though it didn't help that his stomach growled in reminder.

"If you aren't eating that then I will."

Carl looked back to see Lyra dressed in her usual sleepwear of a shirt and pants too, her shirt however was sleeveless revealing the various size scars on her arms.

Carl hadn't being able to ask her about the scars on her arms. He knew about the one on her face because Patrick told him but other than that, the teen was completely in the dark. With himself on the other hand, it seemed like he couldn't shut up. It was slightly odd for the teen. Being around Lyra, Carl felt compelled to speak, to tell. It was only by sheer mental force that he managed to remain silent for so long, answering only Lyra asked.

Maybe because it was the fact that she truly didn't know him therefore what happened to Carl wouldn't really affect her or cause her to react in anyway. It felt like being in the presence of Remi all over again.

Carl shivered.

Remi wasn't real. She was a figment created off the memory of Lyra, the Lyra he knew from the prison.

 _The Lyra I wanted to know,_ his mind corrected.

Silently Carl nodded. This Lyra was definitely different, it wasn't just physically but he could tell it was also mental. Whatever happened between her and the Saviours obviously changed her. Plus the knee brace had to come from somewhere, it didn't just show up on her limb one morning.

"You going up or what?"

Carl looked back to see Lyra behind him munching on a crab apple she had left for him. She stopped half-way through a bite.

"What? You aren't having it, so I am."

Carl scamped up the ladder and crawled over to the farthest side of the makeshift bed.

The two had managed to lash a couple of wooden planks together, place a blanket down and called it a cot. Carl slept on it. It was uncomfortable the first couple of nights and the teen had tried to keep his tossing and turning to a minimum but it was impossible with the creaks and groans accompanying every motion. Lyra was inching to pick up the heaviest object and hurl it at Carl's head.

Once Lyra was on top she shot the apple core into the bin where it landed with a thud.

"Nice," Carl complimented.

"That's nothing compared to Cory."

"Who's Cory?"

Lyra fell silent. She gave a hard swallow before replying, "someone who I knew."

"Is it your dad?"

The apprentice paused. Without a word, she turned over. Carl started at her back for a few moments before turning towards the wall. He felt a pit in his stomach knowing that he had said something that irritated Lyra. He couldn't help it though...if they were going to work together he wanted to know more about her.

Carl felt an odd sensation that pulsed through his groin and he immediately blushed. Forcing himself to remain calm, he bit his lip and fell asleep.

XXXXXX

The next morning the two woke around the same time. Lyra going down first and into the 'bathroom', which was a basically a room with a bucket.

When Carl first saw it he immediately thought of having to go up the ladder to the second floor and throw it on the walkers.

"The Saviours do it," she corrected as if reading his mind.

Carl blinked unsure if any Saviour was capable of doing such a humiliating act.

"Yeah, we technically aren't allowed to go out, and Negan starts to bitch when it started to stink."

The teen found himself trying to stifle a laughter. Lyra joined.

"Heh, at least we can have the pleasure of watching the Saviours deal with our shit."

Carl laughed harder.

Once finished, Lyra walked out to see Carl standing waiting his own turn. The teen slipped in and closed the door letting out the held in breath. It was beginning to become a ritual for Carl, starting the morning off a bit nervous around the apprentice but eventually getting comfortable. However he did hope that the ritual would end.

The day continued as a usual slow pace. Each took turns between making batches. Carl was getting better to the point where Lyra was comfortable to let him be on his own. His lack of perception was the only thing that was holding him back, he wasn't used to relying so much on his left side.

"Best put you in better clothes," Lyra said as she tied the bag.

Carl scowled. "Why?"

"Because that's a double batch," she said tossing the last bag into the box. "You're going to see your dad."


	4. Chapter 4

_It hurts...daddy it hurts._

 _It's alright Carl, it's just a sliver...There it's gone now._

 _..._

 _It hurts...dad it hurts._

 _I told you to keep the knee pads on...There all wrapped...don't tell your mother._

 _..._

 _It hurts...dad it hurts so much._

...

 _Dad, why is it burning so much?_

Carl's hand unconsciously reached up to the right side of his face. He expected to feel blood pour in rivulets down his face, but his finger came off dry. His fingers brushed against the gauze, wincing as a couple threads pulled against the threads holding his eyelids together.

 _It still hurts dad._

But knowingly, he would never admit that to his father, or Michonne, or even Daryl...he can't admit it to anyone. Carl wanted to be strong, to show that he was independent and capable of caring for himself. When he cared for his dad, Carl thought that it would show him that he was capable. However nothing changed.

"You're up."

Carl looked over at Lyra who was fixing her brace. She gave a wince as she turned the one/eighth wrench.

"Come here."

The teen went down the ladder and up to Lyra who gently placed her hands on either side of his head. His eye shifted back and forth before setting back on the apprentice.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"You were scratching at your socket last night," Lyra explained unwinding the gauze.

"I...was?"

Lyra gently pulled off the gauze pad and Carl winced as he felt a couple stray strand break off. He looked down at the pad to see some leakage and blood. He reached up to touch the wound but Lyra stopped him.

"We don't have any antibiotics, if it gets infected then you're fucked," Lyra said. "I got some spare gauze around here somewhere, one sec."

Carl watched as Lyra walked over to the back room. He looked down at the wrench to see some dried blood spotting the handle.

"How did you get the knee brace?" Carl shouted back to Lyra, he hoped that she would answer him this time. He was in luck.

"I put it on myself."

The teen would mean putting screws into the bone herself – when she was awake...when she...

"What happened?"

Lyra walked out around the gauze roll and some tape. She cut off a length and started to apply it to Carl's wound.

"I was an idiot," she answered after a few beats of silence.

Carl hoped he was going to get more, but that seemed to be it.

"What happened to you after the Governor's attack?"

"I ran." Lyra said, "what other choice did I have?"

"Why did you stay and fight?"

"I'm not a fighter kid, I'm a welder."

"You know how to use a gun," Carl argued. "Patrick told me so, plus you've lived outside. You would've ha-."

"Shut up!"

The words sliced through the teen. Silence ensued and Carl stared dumbfounded. He didn't understand. When Lyra came into the prison, he had seen how malnutrition-ed she was. While it was never verbally said out loud, Carl knew that something happened to Lyra inside Woodbury. So when the Governor and his new thugs attacked, he was shocked to learn that Lyra ran. He figured she would've wanted revenge for what the bastard had done to her.

"I'd think you wanted to fight back," he said dully, his voice near accusatory.

Lyra let out a the held in breath she didn't know she had. Images and words wormed their way into her mind, from the assaults that she was forced to endure in Woodbury to working for Negan and his Saviours. Then...there was...there was...

"Stacy and Kaz," Lyra whispered, her voice hardly audible so that Carl couldn't hear. But he did hear the hiss of air.

"Lyra?"

"We got tricked," she said, "all of us."

"By who?"

"Steven."

Carl blinked surprised to hear that name again.

"That's...that's the guy who from Hilltop, he tried to capture me."

"Bastard was a Saviour Carl," Lyra corrected, "he was placed at Hilltop by Negan to send a warning to Gregory when he caught wind of someone messing around with Alexandria. Asshole has a brother you've already met, name's Jordan and acts like he's Dwight's right hand man. Truth is no one likes him but is well known for his knives."

Lyra looked over at Carl.

"The guy really has it out for you kid, you just don't see it. What did you do to Steven anyway?"

"I killed him."

XXXXXX

"Well, well, not too bad."

Negan trailed his fingers over the supplies. He looked back at Rick who held a stony face, the father's group members were spread out behind him. However the Saviours still outnumbered them easily. Rick looked around at the Saviours to see one in particular who was absent-mindedly picking his nails with a rather flashy knife.

"Load this shit up boys!" Negan called to his men.

"Where's my son?" Rick demanded.

Negan raised an eyebrow, a sick grin spread across his face.

"You think that after only one perfect cache that _you'll_ get to see the boy?"

Rick's heart dropped. Negan slung Lucille over his shoulder giving his prey warning what would happen should he step out of line.

"I've being thinking," the sadistic leader continued, he walked slowly in front of Rick in a taunting manner. "That maybe letting you see your son after only one supplies cache is _too_ much of a reward. You know...too much carrot for little walk."

The father bristled. His hands balling into tight fists and using every ounce of his being from lunging at Negan.

"But I'm going to give you a chance," Negan said, nodding to Rick's group. Everyone straightened on guard just in case. "Pick one."

"What?"

"I said pick one, shithead."

Rick looked at his friends and family who each looked back trying to keep their emotions in check.

"Or maybe I'll take a pick again!"

Carefully Abraham tried to pull Rosita behind him, when suddenly she gave a shriek as a Saviour who had being watching grabbed her.

"Ah, ah, ah," Negan warned as the Saviour gave the young woman a slight push forward. "None of that, don't you want to know if you're going to be picked?"

Abraham and Eugene visibly bristled as Negan stepped closer to Rosita.

"Wait!" Rick said before anything could happen. "What do you mean?"

The ploy worked and Negan turned back to his opponent.

"Seems like I need to spell it out for you. Pick someone from your group and tomorrow, they'll see the kid on your behalf."

Rick felt his hands slowly ball. He'd choose Daryl in a heartbeat, he knew that his son would open up to the hunter, but the hunter was still laid up. Michonne was his next choice, but she was still laid up as well. So that left...

"Abraham," Rick called, "will you?"

The man was about to reply when Negan gave a dramatic sigh.

"You think I'm stupid?" he demanded, "think I'll allow some-."

"You said I can pick!" Rick shouted back.

"But only _I_ can approve."

Rick clenched his fists as the rules and stakes continued to pile up and up.

XXXXXX

 _Sspptt!_

The walker's head snapped violently to the side as a stone shot through it. It fell face flat knocking it's neighbour down and another gave a grunt in annoyance as it sauntered off.

"Nice shot," Lyra nodded, her head resting on her crossed arms that laid on her folded knees. She side glanced Carl who was positioned leftward, in his right hand was a slingshot she had made from spare parts.

Some parts of the body were cruelly held together by thin wire. The band was taken from a pair of waist pants.

 _Ssskkkttt!_

Carl clicked his tongue in annoyance as the stone landed in the ground. He shot off another one but it missed as well, and the one after that.

"Can I retract my statement earlier?" Lyra teased.

"Shut up," Carl scowled as he lined up another shot. He fired and the pebble skid across the walker's skull but didn't actually puncture through anything.

Lyra sighed and got up from her comfortable position. She grabbed a pebble from the pile and took the slingshot from him.

"Good thing we have a lot of ammo."

She quickly lined up a shot and then released watching the pebble finish the job.

"Left hand's not my dominate," Carl complained.

"Well you gotta get used to it," Lyra said, "dominate or not."

Carl took the slingshot back and aimed.

"Here," Lyra gently laid her hands over top of Carl's. "You're stance is good but your hold on the slingshot could be better." Carl felt Lyra shift her body slightly so it aligned with his. He felt a strong tremor rush through him like a drug. "Turn the V sideways, good like that," Lyra pulled Carl's hand back along with the stone, the teen felt her breath tickle the back of his neck. "Hold the pouch between your thumb and palm, use the two points as a centre guide...aim and-."

 _Splat!_

Carl felt a swell of satisfaction rise in him as he watched the walkers go down. He looked over to see Lyra giving a nod of approval before going back to her position.

"Ten more minutes then we gotta go back to work," Lyra said staring out into the crowd. Carl continued to shoot like she showed him, never missing.

"How often do you come up here?" Carl asked releasing a stone.

Lyra shrugged. "Whenever I feel like the walls are closing in on me."

"And the others never realize?"

"It's mostly at night I come up here, Negan and his tagalongs never come at night so I generally have no worries."

"But what about daytime? Like now?"

Lyra gave another small shrug. "I've never really come during the day, this is the first."

Carl lowered the weapon. A pit of guilt swelled in him. Lyra was risking herself for him, to allow him to be out in fresh air during the day just because he complained.

For the past couple of days, Carl had non-stop went on and on about how boring and dull the tedious chore was. Lyra would in a relatively calm voice tell him that he really didn't have a choice and she couldn't do anything about it.

"Either you get to see your dad alive, or you can see him dead," Lyra explained bluntly. Then she added, "just because Rick's not around doesn't mean you two have to in a sense, work together."

In the present, Carl knew she was right even though it irked him.

"Give it a couple last shots," Lyra said standing up.

Pulling back on the pouch, Carl lined up with the target and released. As the stone punched through the walker's head, Carl imagined it being Negan.

XXXXXX

Morn shone through the ceiling windows. Carl woke first today and looked down to see Lyra still asleep. Carefully he crawled over her and went down the ladder. Starting the morning as usual, getting dressed and having something to eat, Carl took in his sights carefully. Before he never really had the chance to, upon arrival his main focus was making as many bullets as possible despite feeling sick to his stomach in doing so. But now their double bullet quota was filled and Negan knew about it, most likely his father had created a double cache too.

Carl's eye flicked downcast for a brief moment. A double supply cache, even with the supplies of Alexandria and Hilltop combined probably wouldn't be enough, plus Hilltop needed to give Negan _their own_ on top of that. Carl knew that Gregory wasn't just going to merrily give his dad supplies. There was a possible chance of blood, and that blood would excite a possible war, something that neither wanted. But then again, what choice? If pressured, Carl knew his father would have to make choices to try and appeal to the citizens – especially in a time like this.

 _This...this is my fault._

Carl clenched his fists unconsciously.

 _Well the supply caches anyway._

His hands were still balled. Of course they would be though... while he may have not being responsible for the initial trigger, the aftermath with the supplies is his fault. It would cause a problem, and a problem is not what Carl ever wanted to be.

It was afternoon when the door opened and Dwight came in with a couple of Saviours behind him. Lyra spotted them first.

"Shit," she muttered. "Carl put those down."

The teen looked slightly confused at the apprentice but cautiously followed her advice. He got off the stool and scowled when he saw Dwight.

"Where's the bullets?" the Saviour asked.

Lyra picked up the bag and threw it at his feet, it landed with a heavy _thud_. He picked it up and nodded to the others.

"Over by the wall," a Saviour ordered.

"Fuck you," Carl responded.

The apprentice sighed. "You want to see your dad, do it boy."

Reluctantly Carl walked over to the wall. He looked down to see a handcuff welded to a chain that was nailed into the wall.

"Put it on."

Carl bristled sending a glare at Dwight but the Saviour repeated his order.

"This isn't necessary Dwight," Lyra growled softly stepping forward. "The kid follows orders, he's alright."

"Then he'll follow the fucking order!"

All three turned to see Negan coming in, behind him was a person with a bag over their head. The two were flanked by two others. The four walked up to Dwight and stopped.

"Put the fucking cuff on, or your dad's a fucking dead man."

Carl bristled and looked back at Lyra who looked had a mixed expression. It was clear she was conflicted on what to say to the teen. Reluctantly he walked over to the wall and placed it on. He winced as it locked with a _snap!_

Negan gave a smart grin as he lowered Lucille from his shoulder. He side stepped allowing Carl to see his-

"Dad!" Carl shouted straining against the cuff on his wrist. "Da-...what the fuck?!"

Eugene hung his head knowing this was hard for the teen. Carl wanted his dad, not a stranger – not a liar.

"Where's my dad?" Carl demanded glaring at Negan.

"Watch your tone boy," Dwight warned.

"Fuck you!"

Carl felt his head rock as a Saviour struck him upside the head with a leather bound club. His head rocked violently to near unconsciousness.

Eugene stepped forward but Lucille slapped across his chest warningly. Lyra rushed over and held Carl steady to keep him from falling over. Carl placed a hand to his head trying to shake away the stars that danced in his vision. Through the thick clouds that threatened to blind him, Carl managed a glare.

"This...this wasn't part of the deal!" the teen shouted, it gave him a migraine but he didn't care. Negan lied, while wasn't the first or going to be the last. It was definitely cruel, to promise a son to see his father then to take it all away. "You...you fucking-."

"You're seeing who I tell you boy!" Negan commanded, starting to loose his patience with the stubborn teen. "You have ten minutes to talk."

Carl and Eugene watched as Negan walked back to the entrance and leaned up against the wall. The two looked back at each other before breaking away, one in anger the other in pain. Eugene lightly cleared his throat.

"Ca-."

"Shut up."

The words sliced through the science teacher. He didn't know what to say and no words of comfort came to mind either. But he knew questions Rick would want to know, so he soldiered on.

"Your dad wants to know how your doing?"

Carl remained silent still. If his father wanted to know his feelings, then dad would have to come down himself.

"Mr. Porter?!"

The two whipped around, staring astonishingly at Lyra. Her eyes were wide and on the former teacher.

"Holy shit," the man whispered. "Lyra...?"

The apprentice took a tentative step forward. Carl looked between the two.

"Wait...you know him?"

Lyra took in a breath. "Yeah...he was my science teacher."


	5. Chapter 5

Carl looked between Lyra and Eugene completely bewildered. The two looked at each other in shock, but it wore off quickly when each realized they weren't alone.

"Heard you got an apprenticeship right after graduation," Eugene said suddenly. It was the only thing that came into his mind, but then again he never expected to meet a former student.

Lyra just nodded unable to form any words. She never expected a man like Eugene to be alive in a world like this. At school there were many places for the science teacher to hide away from those who threatened him, out here was a different story.

"I didn't know that...," again the words drifted, laying unsaid in the air. Eugene noticed the scars on Lyra's face and on her arms knowing that not all, or if any, were from welding. "I'm sorry."

"Carl...," Lyra said turning to the teen who stared angrily at the ground. "He wa-."

"I don't fucking care!" Carl growled, his voice was quiet but echoed in the spacious room. "Where's my dad?"

Eugene cleared his throat. "He's back at Hillt-."

"Why?"

The man's eyes shifted to the sadistic leader who seemed to be having a blast with the unintentional reunion.

"Carl I'm s-."

"No you're not. You think that you're finally being useful by doing this, but your not."

On the harsh words the teen resumed his staring contest with the floor. Lyra gave a slight sigh knowing that nothing she could say would change his mind. She caught Carl looking at her from the corner of his eye but she gave no movements in attempts to console him.

"How's the shoulder?" Eugene asked to the teen trying to get a response. As expected he got nothing.

"Shoulder's all healed up," Lyra answered for Carl. "A Saviour had broken his nose, but that's mostly healed now too."

"Wai-...Someone broke his nose?"

Lyra looked squarely at Jordan who was scoring a wooden table with the tip of his knife. Eugene followed her gaze.

"Times up shitheads," Negan called signalling to his men.  
"Carl," Eugene said quickly looking back at the teen. "Carl please, tell me something. Your dad..."

Letting out a small sigh he looked at Eugene.

"I'm doing...okay."

Eugene gave a nervous swallow. He knew that wasn't going to be enough to stave the enraged father away, but that's all he got as he was pulled back.

Dwight threw Lyra something which she caught mid-air and opened her palm to see it was the key to the cuff. She walked over and unlocked Carl's entrapped wrist. As soon as the teen was free he marched angrily back to the main room not saying so much of a sound.

"Testy little shit," Jordan spat.

"And when the fuck have testy ones ever pissed you off?" Negan inquired playfully. In response Jordan gave a sick grin.

Eugene was ready to speak to Carl's defence when a bag slipped over his head plunging him into darkness.

XXXXXX

Eugene was dropped off at the gates of Hilltop. He was literally shoved out of the vehicle with the bag still over his head and hands bound behind his back. The sound of a gate opening caught the former teacher's attention and he felt himself gently pulled to his feet and led inside.

The bag was whipped off his head and the rope cut. He looked to see that it was Rosita who had led him in, Abraham and Sasha came up down from their posts.

"What happened?" Abraham immediately asked.

"Let him catch his breath," Rosita countered.

"It's alright," Eugene said, "I'm fine and so is Carl."

All three waited a bit anxiously, eager for Eugene to continue but when he didn't they started to worry.

"What did Carl say?" Sasha asked.

"He said to tell his dad that he's okay."

There was a silence.

"Th-that's it?" Rosita asked slightly confused.

"Not very talkative at the moment," Eugene said, then let out a nervous breath. "Think that'll be enough for Rick?"

Abraham let out a slight breath, "not a fucking chance."

Inside the common room, Rick was awaiting anxiously. Michonne was with him having recovered mostly, even Daryl was there, sitting on the couch, though his shoulder was still stiff. The door opened and all three heads turned to see Eugene entering, behind were him Sasha, Rosita and Abraham. The former sergeant motioned to the women that he'll go in with Eugene alone and the two nodded waiting outside.

Once the door was closed Rick rushed up to Eugene.

"Well?" the father asked, a rare desperate tone pitched his voice.

"Um...well..."

It took every ounce of Rick to not grab the man by his shoulders to shake the rest of the story out.

"He said he was okay," Eugene finally said. "His shoulder is all healed too."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Rick waited for more but when he saw the weary expression on Eugene's face and he knew that was it.

"That's it?" Daryl spoke first, his tone giving off everyone's unbelief.

"He wasn't very talkative," Eugene defended. "Plus I think he's still in shock from...you know-"

Rick turned away ignoring the man. He ran a hand through his hair.

The leader had restrained himself as the desperate need to tear through the forest in order to find his son grew with every passing day. Now that he had finally had the chance to hear how his was doing, that was all Carl was giving him? Just an 'okay'? Even if Carl had asked Eugene to call him every name in the book, Rick wouldn't care! At least he'd know his son was reacting to what was going on, responding. It was just...It was just...He paced a couple of times before turning back to Eugene, a dark expression crossed his face.

"How do I know you're not lying?"

Abraham straightened. He looked over at Eugene who seemed to be going slightly pale at the threatening glare Rick was sending him.

"I'm not," Eugene said firmly coming to his senses. "Carl was shocked to say the least when he saw me. I tried to persuade him Rick, I did – but your boy didn't say a peep."

"So yer just assuming he's okay?" Daryl snapped.

"No, that I did manage to get out but it was at the very end."

Rick balled his fists.

 _Why are you doing this? Carl please..._

Maybe it was because Rick wasn't there. Carl was expecting his father but instead got someone completely different.

 _You stubborn boy...!_ Rick silently cursed. _It's not my fault!_

He looked back to see Daryl and Michonne both slightly confused and a bit dismayed from the only word Carl had asked to be relayed to everyone.

"Is there anything that Eugene can tell Carl when he goes back?" Michonne asked.

Rick didn't want to think about that right now. Three double supply caches and they'll have Carl back. But the second one wasn't even underway, in fact in was far from it.

Tobin and Heath had come back with some supplies but it was a small take from a town a couple miles away. When they came back they had about half a trunk load. This caused Rick to go back on _his_ word to Hilltop.

To get Gregory to fully co-operate, Rick promised to compensate part of their take from Hilltop. He knew that telling the leader that they needed each other wasn't going to be enough – if anything Gregory would've probably laughed right at his face in front of everyone. So Rick was forced to do the next best thing and negotiate the very price he had to pay to get his son back. It was extremely hard for the father to do. Rick wished that someone was there to punch him as he had heard the words slip from his mouth.

Daryl was more familiar, and experienced, with the deepened expression on Rick's face than any in the room.

"Yer thinking of taking a run to find Carl ain't ya." It wasn't even a question.

Rick looked at Eugene.

"Did you see anything?" Rick asked.

Eugene shook his head, "but..."

Everyone in the room held their breath.

"I did keep track of how many turns and which way the vehicle made," the former teacher said. "It's mostly guessing but there weren't a lot of potholes or roots we went over. Even the place they were holding him, it sounded...rough like gravel."

Rick felt his heart leap into his throat. He stepped forward.

"You can take me to his son."

Eugene sighed, "maybe, like I said it's guessing on how long until the next turns. And on the way in and out, there were walkers...a lot of walkers. Think Negan's using it as a defence or something, it keeps people out but also in as well."

"So how does he get in and out?" Michonne asked.

"I don't know. All I can think of is bait, but they'd need a lot."

Rick nodded quickly, already formulating a plan in his mind.

"We'll go tomorrow," Rick said. "Wh-."

"In a couple days," Eugene interrupted. He knew that it wasn't the best words in the presence at the moment. "I think that it's best. You're still an unknown to Negan, he may be more cautious until he knows that he has you under control completely. Plus we don't want to do anything rash that would put Carl and Lyra into further danger."

Rick nodded and was about to speak when Daryl interrupted him.

"Whoa, Lyra? Ya mean like the apprentice?"

Rick nodded.

"Yer knew about this?!"

"I'll explain later," Rick promised, he turned back to Eugene. "We don't have time. We need to go as soon as possible."

Eugene was about to protest when Abraham spoke up.

"I'll go with ya two. Just to be on the safe side, we can park the car in the forest and walk the rest of the way."

Eugene nodded thoughtfully.

XXXXXX

Later that night, a meagre meal was passed around. Some even unable to eat because of the lack of supplies, so they slowly drifted back to their homes not able to do much else.

Eugene, Abraham, Sasha and Rosita were all congregated outside on the porch. They watched as Rick tried once more to speak to someone but instead got brushed off.

"He'd have a better time talking to a rat's ass," Abraham commented passing the bowl to Rosita. She shook her head.

"You should have something to eat," Sasha said, "Eugene and I have already had our portions."

"I'm not hungry," Rosita replied getting up from her seat.

Abraham was about to speak when his girlfriend shook her head. She walked into the house, closing the door behind her.

"What's wrong with her?" Eugene asked looking at Abraham, the boyfriend just shrugged.

"She's being fine," Sasha said coming to the young woman's defence.

"Is everything alright?"

Everyone turned to see Rick standing at the bottom of the porch steps.

"Yeah," Sasha said before the other two had a chance. "Do you need something?"

"I need to speak to Eugene."

The two looked over at the former teacher who was slightly surprised himself. However he nodded showing that he'll take care of himself. Sasha and Abraham walked into the house closing the door behind them.

Eugene turned back to Rick who walked up the stairs and took a seat beside him.

"I want to talk about Lyra."

The name of the apprentice made Eugene's heart drop.

"Rick...she used to be a student of mine."

The leader looked over incredulously. But he quickly recovered and took in a breath.

"Can she be trusted?"

"I've had over a hundred students Rick, all I can tell you is that she did her homework."

"So...is that a yes?"

"To a teacher, sure." Eugene looked at Rick. "But we're not in school, so at the moment...I can't say anything."

"She's protecting my son."

"Rick, she may be under order to. She's teaching him how to make bullets, but that's because she has no choice."

Eugene turned back watching the last of the Alexandrians' go back into their homes. Rick watched too wondering how he would be able to bring then all back under his order. It was clear some men were starting to challenge his leadership and that would turn to violence, something that he couldn't have at the moment. He knew that Abraham and Daryl (once gotten back on his feet properly) would help quell some of the aggression. However Rick knew that some fights he would have to do his own, if it ever came to that.

"Lyra's being hurt," Eugene said. "Badly, she has scars I've never seen before and I can tell you right now that they're not from working in the shop."

Rick nodded thoughtfully. "When we found her in Woodbury, she was malnutrition-ed. Hershel had a look at her, she had being beaten and even raped."

The former teacher let out a shaky breath. "More has being done to her Rick, she has a brace on her knee. They must've deformed it someway, and it's the only thing left that's allowing her to walk on her own."

Rick's eyes went downcast as he tried to imagine the pain Lyra had placed herself through to get the brace on. He couldn't.

"What do you want?"

The leader looked over at Eugene who looked at him.

"What do you want from _her_?"

XXXXXX

A couple days passed by. The work Carl and Lyra were doing was slow. Some damaged guns were brought to Lyra for repair so Carl was the one mostly working on the bullets for a couple days.

It was getting on night. A light magenta streak raced across the sky with clouds lined through the colour. It was a cool night with a light warm hint to kill off the soft breezes that drifted around Carl once in a while.

Between the teen's fingers was a metal tag. It had a name, date and the position of owner.

"Who's Cory Welner?"

"The first guy I met after my dad died," Lyra responded shooting off a stone.

"...a pilot," Carl wondered, "that must've being cool."

"Got dishonourably discharged when he fucked up a mission."

Carl looked over at Lyra who didn't say any more. He hoped that she would, oddly enough Carl found himself content when she spoke even if her voice was a hoarse husky tone.

"He's trying to help," Lyra reminded.

"I don't want his help," Carl countered bitterly. "You know that he lied about his job before all this? Said he was some sort of scientist and ended up getting a bunch of people killed over it!"

"You know that Cory pretended to be my dad?"

The teen fell silent. He watched as Lyra gave a slow nod.

"We agreed to be a father and son duo. We both figured it would be safer that I go as a boy, so I dressed as a teen and let Cory do most of the talking."

"How did you manage that?" Carl asked.

"Had body armour that hid my curves, and a scarf to hide my throat."

Carl clenched the tags.

"Alright, so you and this guy disguised yourself to protect yourself. That's different from what Eugene did."

"You're right, our plan didn't get anyone killed. But he did it to have protection just like Cory and I."

"See? I don't know why my dad would choose him."

"Maybe your dad didn't even have a choice."

Carl let out an angry huff. "Doesn't matter, the guy can't fight so what's the point."

"Point is that he's smart." Carl raised an eyebrow looking at Lyra who shot another walker. "He was my teacher remember? Sometimes the guys would like to pull a joke on him, but he always caught on to whatever bullshit was being pulled."

"Fine, he was able to evade the 'cool' kids. But Negan and his assholes are a different matter, if he caught on to whatever they're planning, they'll just kill him."

"No," Lyra interrupted, "what you're missing is the fact that he's the only one who can get messages to your father." Carl froze. "Get it? He may be a shit fighter but he really is a smart man. Give him enough hints and he'll be able to figure it out, put it together and get it back to your dad."

"Fine whatever! But if that's true, we're not going to see him until another two weeks. Even if we get the bullets, my dad needs to get the supplies."

"There is one way of getting Negan's attention," Lyra pondered. She let out a small sigh, "yeah...it'll work."

Lyra got to her feet and whirled around so that she was in front of Carl. She raised her arms sideways.

"Shoot me."


	6. Chapter 6

Carl stared completely bewildered.

"Wha...!"

"You want to get a message to your father?" Lyra asked raising an eyebrow. She pushed the slingshot to the teen. "Shoot me."

Carl looked at the slingshot between them. His eye narrowed as he looked back at Lyra.

"I'm not shooting you."

"Do you want to get out of here? Do you want to see your dad?! This is the only way!"

Carl stared at her slightly bewildered. Then something stopped him.

Usually he would have no problem going along with the plan, no matter how bizarre it may seem. He had to trust Lyra because she had lived under Negan's rules. Carl wanted to go along with the plan, he wanted to do what Lyra said but something stopped him.

He looked at Lyra hoping that she would drop the plan. That she would think hisself too stupid to follow the plan, but better stupid than insane.

"Carl."

The teen looked at the apprentice and felt his heart drop. Her eyes were emotionless like a shark and a dark expression shaded her face giving an ominous impression.

"It'll be all your fault."

Carl felt his heart palpitate at the 'f' word. He gripped the slingshot until he felt a deep imprint in his palm.

"Everything...will be your fault."

A lump clogged the teen's throat blocking off all his air.

"L-lyra," he said weakly. It's being a long time since anyone's made Carl feel this way. He felt like he was twelve again, small and weak.

The apprentice turned away facing the entrance to the factory, the haunting moans from the walkers below echoed around them.

"Just hope your father doesn't do anything. That he just follows the rules."

Carl scowled. "My dad'll figure it out! He always finds a way to save his friends and family."

"Why? Because you're too scared to do it yourself?"

Carl felt as if he had being carved from ice. An ominous chill ran through his spine. To try and cover for what he was feeling, Carl clenched his fists tight until he felt his fingernails dig deep into his palm.

"I'm not scared, I know how to defend myself. My dad relies on me, everyone relies on me! If my dad needs my help, I'll be more than willing to bullet in that fucker's brain!"

Lyra gave a mirthless chuckle."Boy, if your father ever does break the rules, Negan's going to do one of two things. He's going to iron Rick, or he's going to kill him. Hell, the asshole may do both just out of reason, to send a message to those who work under him."

Carl tried to respond. He was about to speak when Lyra interrupted him with a deep sigh.

"I'd hope that Negan kills him," Lyra said, "it's be more merciful that wa-."

WHAM!

Lyra's head snapped back as Carl followed through on the punch. She looked back in time to see Carl tackle her to the ground.

"Don't...," Carl whispered through gritted teeth. "My dad's a survivor! You don't understand, and you never will, so just shut the fuck up!"

"I'm a survivor too boy, I've being through more than _you_ could understand, so don't patronize me."

Carl ground his teeth, to angry to listen to what Lyra was saying.

"You're scared," the apprentice continued, waving her hand dismissively. "That's all you are, you can pretend all you want, and your friends may buy it, but I assure you, your father doesn't. He's just smart not to call you out on it.'

'But what I'm most curious is how long you plan on hiding?"

Carl shook his head, he was ready to deny it when Lyra once again interrupted him.

"Don't pull fucking shit on me boy! I've seen it and I know a hider when I see one, you're as clear as a fucking bell. Because staying hidden is a lot better than gettin' blood on your face isn't it? But when you step up, when you _murder_ someone...it's easy to say to push it off, especially when your father finds out. Why? Because he still has hope that you're deep down your the same ol' twelve year old good kid. Man... if only that guy took off his blinders huh?"

Without thinking, without realizing, the rock in Carl's hand connected with Lyra's side and then again with her face. He needed to stop, he needed to put the rock down and back away. But something inside, egged him on, wanted him to continue. She had insulted his father, had insulted his friends, insulted the dead and then insulted _him_. But why?

 _She has a plan, and baited you right into it._

Carl stopped dead. His hand shook at his side, while the other holding the rock remained still. It was slick with blood and Carl dropped it as if it had burned him.

"I-I'm sorry."

Quickly looked up, Carl saw that he had little natural light to work with. But that was all the teen needed as he grabbed Lyra's ankles and pulled her to the

XXXXXX

Lyra's eyes slowly opened. She tried to get up but a pain bloomed in her side making her grit her teeth. Looking out of the corner of her eye, Lyra saw Carl knelt beside her. Scattered on the ground was rubbing alcohol, gauze and tape.

"Wha-," Lyra started to cough violently feeling pain pulse with each hack. Feeling drowsy, she laid her head back on the shirt. It took her a few seconds to realize that it was Carl's balled up plaid long sleeve.

"Shit...didn't know you could hit that hard."

"I hit you with a rock."

"Now that's just cheating."

Carl's eye went downcast.

"I couldn't," he whispered, his voice slightly cracked rather than hard. Lyra closed her eyes. "I mean...I did...but then."

"Carl."

"I'm sorry."

Lyra let out a small sigh, closing her eyes lightly. When she opened them, she turned to Carl and gave him a small weak smile. Lyra reached up and gently placed her hand on Carl's cheek, her skin just brushing his. A slight breath caught in the teen's throat as he felt a sensation tingle and zap every nerve in his body. He closed his eyes as he felt the hand stroke his cheek once before dropping leaving his cheek cool.

"I shouldn't have...I was in the wrong, and I'm sorry."

Every part of Carl want to reach out and cradle the young woman before him. To confess everything he had done in the prison to force himself to stay away, to cradle her and tell her everything from his fears to his pain. Why? Because Lyra was right, he was scared. He was hiding and would blame all his committed murders on the fact of protection. He was alone even amongst his friends and family and couldn't find a way to reach out except through anger.

When Dale died, Carl had blamed himself the most. In fact he still blamed himself, he still held in that guilt, and so he decided that never again would anyone he loved and cared about meet the same gruesome fate.

"That's the thing about us Carl," Lyra whispered seeing the expression on Carl's face. "We're perfect loners."

His hand slowly inched towards Lyra's. She looked down seeing his hand slightly turned upward on the ground. Slowly Lyra inched her own to meet the teen's and gripped it lightly. Adjusting himself, Carl lied on his stomach. His blue eyes looking into Lyra's grey ones. Each softened their hardened glare and for a tense moment Carl wanted nothing more than to kiss the apprentice. Something that he had wanted to do for a very long time.

XXXXXX

"How did you end up working for Negan?"

The two had woken up side by side. However it was a different feeling than before. The tension and gap between the two weren't there.

Carl had grabbed some food for the two to share. When he returned he said that it was the last of the rations bag, Lyra just gave a meek nod.

Now he was changing her bandages. Lyra kept still feeling a slight uncomfortable feeling but the wound was still numb, helping ease the pain as Carl tended to the stitches.

"Lyra?"

The apprentice's eyes flicked downcast for a few seconds before raising. Carl saw a rare glint of sorrow and he felt something ram into his heart.

"Suppose I owe you that much huh?"

Carl didn't say anything.

"You know that I ran from the fight," Lyra said quietly. "I was on my own for a couple days, sleeping in trees and not having much to eat. I met two people on the road, they took me in and in exchange I repaired their weaponry.

"Stacy and Kaz?"

Lyra nodded. "They had a vehicle too which was nice. We were driving when we saw a body on the road. It had a bag by it so Kaz wanted to stop and pick it up. So we stopped...and picked it up...Turns out the guy wasn't as dead as we expected."

"Steven," Carl recalled.

"You did me a favour when you killed him Carl. Stacy was the one who grabbed the bag, he pulled her down out of the vehicle. The bastard had friends who were waiting as well, soon we were surrounded before we even had the change to grab our weapons..."

" _Next!"_

 _Lyra looked back at Stacy and Kaz, both slightly anxious at what was going on. She felt a heavy hand drop on her shoulder and pull Lyra to her feet. Lyra pulled back and struggled to get out of the grip but a fist sank deep into her stomach making her gasp into the gag._

 _Her feet dragged on the ground as she was pulled into the large room. Forced onto her knees, Lyra breathed heavily feeling a hand steady on her shoulder as the bag was pulled from her head. Lyra shook the static out of her hair and then looked around._

 _The room reminded her of a strip-club. Large pillows were laid around the walls of the room, and four young women sitting on a couch, all in nothing but bra, thigh-straps, and lacy underwear._

" _What the fuck is this?" the rough deep voice demanded. It came out as a lazy roll but was filled with dominance._

" _Found her travelling with a couple others on the road," Steven replied._

" _So?"_

" _Rumour has it you're looking for another warm body, she's warm."_

 _Lyra looked at the man sitting in the long back chair. He didn't look any different from others the apprentice had seen on the road. His hair was slicked back and his long face framed with a stubble. The leader was kept clean much like another leader Lyra had known, but this one had a different feeling around him that Lyra couldn't shake off._

 _The leader got off his chair,adjusting his done-up leather jacket as he did so. Slowly he walked towards the knelt young woman and using a barbwire wrapped baseball bat, forced Lyra to look up._

" _She's fucking scarred asshole," the man sighed. "Fucking useless."_

" _Not completely," Steven said hurriedly. He slung the bag off his shoulder. "It's her bag, inside is all sorts of tools and metal."_

" _That could be anyone's bag," a blond man replied from the sidelines, his face wrapped in bandages so his words were slightly muffled._

 _The leader looked at Steven before going to Lyra. Quickly Steven unsheathed his knife and walked over to Lyra._

 _Immediately the apprentice reared back and tried to get away but two Saviours held her firmly in place. Lyra continued to squirm but a handful of her hair was pulled cruelly. Without a word, Lyra's shirt was ripped down the middle revealing her bare torso. She was safe for a cruelly made bra fashioned from a tensor bandage, but her scars were out for everyone to see. A low whistle came from one of the Saviours._

" _Damn! Look at that gouge, Negan...she sure's a fighter."_

" _Not a fighter idiot," Steven argued, "she's a trader, her bag proves it."_

 _The leader Negan leaned in. "Is that true girl? Are you a fighter or a trader?"_

 _Without hesitation Lyra snapped her head forward. With a light chortle Negan got out of the way just in time of the headbutt and watched as his Saviours tightened their grip._

" _Maybe she's both," Steven continued, "all the mo-."_

 _He was silenced as something whizzed through the air striking his body. Steven cried out painfully as the barbed bat fell on his unguarded body several times. Lyra watched in horror as the blows continued to fall until they suddenly stopped. The laboured breath indicated the Saviour was still alive, but just barely._

" _Shut the fuck up," Negan ordered pointing his bat at the bloodied, trembling Saviour. "We don't hurt women and you make any other fucking movement without my fucking saying, Lucille will gladly finish you off!" The leader turned back to Lyra giving her a small smile. "I'm sorry about my Saviour, he can get 'jumpy' at times." Negan undid the gag and pulled it out. "Now, when I ask a question you need to answer – do you understand?"_

 _Lyra bit her tongue hard to stop herself from what she wanted to say. She looked down cast ready to respond when a hand grabbed her chin forcibly making her look at Negan._

" _None of that," he said, "you need to look at me when I talk to you."_

" _Yes," Lyra said through clenched teeth._

" _Yes what?" Negan asked._

" _Yes I understand."_

" _Good!" The leader proclaimed as he turned and walked back to his chair. He set down the bat with gentle care before taking his seat._

" _Now," Negan said clapping his hands together. "Who are you?"_

" _Lyra."_

" _And what do you do Lyra?"_

 _A flash of aggression flashed in the apprentice's eyes, "survive."_

 _Negan surprised her by giving a mirthless laugh. "No doubt, what did you do before all this?" He motioned lazily with a gloved hand._

" _I worked as an apprentice."_

 _There was a pause and Lyra stole a glance at the girls on the couch who were staring at her with interest. She looked back at Negan who motioned her to continue._

" _...in welding."_

 _Satisfied, Negan sat back in his chair, grinning._

" _Who'd you come with Lyra?"_

 _The apprentice looked back at the Saviour guarding the door. A few seconds later, Stacy and Kaz were both dragged out the same way Lyra was. Once their bags were lifted the two looked around and immediately noticed the provocative way the women were dressed. Stacy went slightly pale._

" _Now there's a warm body."_

 _All three stared at the leader in shock. Stacy felt the man's eyes entirely on her. Negan sauntered up to her easily, his bloodied bat (which Lyra expected to be what he called Lucille), laid on his shoulder. Kaz bristled at the sight of blood then at Steven's body which was still trembling on the ground._

" _What's your name, my dear?"_

 _Kaz and Lyra looked over at Negan who was about an inch away from Stacy. The poor woman felt the ominous tension and answered straight away._

" _Stacy," she tried as evenly as possible._

" _I can give you protection," Negan said calmly. "Not only that, but also food and clothes."_

 _All three immediately caught onto what the leader was offering her. Kaz wouldn't have any of it._

" _Stacy, don't...!" A Saviour raised his hand to strike the man but Negan motioned him to stop._

" _And you are?"_

" _I'm Stacy's husband," Kaz said defiantly, "leave her alone!"_

 _Negan gave a slight bemused smile. Then he side-glanced the blond man whose hardened expression fazed for a brief second._

" _Dwight!" the leader shouted. He snapped his fingers._

 _Slowly the blond man submissively walked over, his head bowed. Negan reached over as the Saviour came into arm's reach and yanked him over. Dwight gave a low groan in pain as he tripped over his feet to Negan's side._

" _Now see this asshole has a wife too," Negan said, "she's right over there in fact. Say hi to our guests Sherry."_

 _The woman gave the 'guests' a sad look but did as she was told._

" _Hello."_

 _Negan looked down at Kaz._

" _Now this fucker decided to fight back when I offered my protection to her. So I figured that I'd teach him a permanent lesson."_

 _Negan whipped out a pen knife and sliced through Dwight's bandages. The Saviour winced as the bandages were torn off revealing the still oozing burn wound that covered half of his face._

 _Lyra's jaw dropped along with the couple's. It was a sickly sight and the apprentice had seen her fair share of burns, but nothing like that. It was a clear third-degree that was partially healed but was healing in a deformed matter, mucking up the one handsome man's face._

 _Kaz couldn't take his eyes off the disgusting sight._

" _Think about this shithead, the next time you want to fucking interrupt," Negan shoved Dwight back to the Saviour's position. "Though suppose the asshat isn't all that bad. Follows orders now which is fucking nice!"_

 _He turned his attention to Stacy and Lyra._

" _I'm sorry you had to see that ladies," he apologized. "Now, Sherry, tell Stacy here what you get being by my side."_

" _Protection, food and clothes."_

" _Thank you Sherry." Negan looked back at the young woman on her knees. "So you see, I'm true to my word."_

 _Stacy swallowed nervously. "Wh-...what will happen to Kaz?"_

" _We'll find a place for him somewhere around the Sanctuary."_

" _And Lyra?"_

 _The leader looked at Lyra who glared at him._

" _Seeing as she's an apprentice tradeswoman, making a couple bullets and fixing weapons should be a walk in the park." Negan looked over at Kaz who was clearly stunned at what was taking place. "And who knows maybe you're husband will be able to help Lyra."_

" _W...what," Stacy said nervously. "What if I refuse?"_

 _Lyra expected Negan to strike out at the woman for such an audacious question. But instead he merely smiled._

" _You're welcome to leave and I'm not going to force you to stay."_

 _Lyra found herself slightly confused. She was baffled by this Negan's behaviour. They could leave, just like that. Lyra looked over at Stacy who oddly looked conflicted, the apprentice wanted to shout that they're leaving and never coming back. However, still quivering on the ground, was Steven who was trying to stop the bleeding on his worst wounds. Even if it didn't seem like Negan would hurt the women, he would go after Kaz in a heartbeat._

" _However I do ask that you take into consideration what I'm saying, my dear."_

Shut up, _Lyra wanted to scream_. Just shut the fuck up! Stacy, Kaz – start fucking running!

 _Lyra bit her tongue so hard, she could taste blood._

"Stacy took the deal if Negan didn't hurt Kaz or myself," Lyra explained. "God, you should've seen Kaz's face. I thought that he would've attacked Negan at that moment. But...the threat of being ironed kept him still."

"What is that?" Carl asked, "ironing?"

"He takes a piece of red hot iron to your face Carl, he holds it there for a few seconds before pulling back." Lyra paused. "I've seen it happen before, to a thief who tried to steal one of Negan's wives. The people who usually receive the iron get excommunicated."

"So why did he kept Dwight?"

Lyra shrugged. "Guess he liked Dwight for his skills, he kept me on for the same reason despite what I did."

Carl wanted to ask what Lyra had done but kept his mouth shut. No doubt it possibly related to her knee injury.

"Hey Carl?"

The teen looked down at Lyra, her eyes half-closed due to fatigue but a small smile played on her lips just for him.

"Thank you."


	7. Chapter 7

"Is...is what he said about me wishing I was still a kid true?"

Lyra looked over at Carl knowing that this would come up.

"Look kid, I'll be straight. Rick talked to me, it wasn't just about the gate or the barbeque pit either. It was just general stuff, and your name came up."

Carl swallowed hard.

"What did he say?"

"He knows you have to grow up fast, he's...," Lyra paused. "I don't know, I think that it just makes him sad that it has to be this way."

Carl fiddled with the empty casing. He looked down at the ground glaring at it.

"I didn't want to grow up like this either!" Carl argued. "I didn't want to shoot Shane or my mom!"

"And I didn't want to watch my dad shoot himself, or get beaten and raped!"

Carl bit his tongue hard. Lyra let out a small sigh, she gently placed the tools down and walked over to the teen.

"We can't ask for anything because there's really nothing left to ask for. All we can do is be there for friends and family, and to try and keep ourselves going."

Carl nodded firmly, knowing that what Lyra had said was true. And he had tried, for his friends and family, as well as hisself.

 _Bang! Bang!_

Lyra immediately grabbed the metal rod leaned up against the ladder and cautiously stepped forward. Carl was behind, he had the slingshot with a piece of metal in the pouch. After a few more clashes, the rusted door burst open and three men stumbled in.

The intruders were covered head to toe in gore. It was clear they were still a bit riled from the walkers they had just cleared out from the yard.

Lyra inched forward, brandishing the rod in front of her. She was ready to strike when one raised their hand in a surrender motion.

"Lyra, wait it's me!" The voice was slightly pitched in fear of being clobbered to death.

"...Mr. Porter?"

"Dad?!"

Carl laid down the slingshot and rushed forward. Suddenly he stopped himself. His dad was here, right now in front of him. The blood and gore didn't disturb Carl, it was what would happen if Negan found out? The psycho could be asking for Rick right now at either Hilltop or Alexandria and no one would have a clue. But Carl knew that Negan was very smart and would be able to put two-and-two together in a heartbeat. That would mean he would take it out on his dad...he would take it out on Lyra.

"There's three of you!? What the fuck?!"

Rick ignored Lyra, his sights only for his son.

"Carl, come on we gotta go."

The former teacher looked over at Lyra who raised an eyebrow. He knew that she didn't expect him to be back, especially sneaking in like this. He followed her gaze over to the last man, who managed to get the door to close to keep the walkers out.

"Um...Lyra this is Abraham...he-."

"What are you doing here?" Lyra asked, her question directed at Eugene ignoring the introduction.

Before he could speak. The father rushed past the apprentice and grabbed Carl's wrist. Rick started to pull his son along, but the teen surprisingly pulled in the opposite direction.

"Wha-...Carl let's go!"

"Not without Lyra," the son said firmly.

Rick looked over at the apprentice.

"I'm sorry," he said. "We take her then Negan will come down on us with full force."

Eugene looked over at his leader with a shocked expression, but Eugene beat them all.

"What? Rick you sai-."

With surprising strength, Carl wrenched his wrist out of his father's grip.

"I'm not leaving without her."

Rick found himself getting frustrated. Why was Cal acting like this? And over Lyra? The two hardly said a word to each other in the prison! He looked over at Abraham who seemed to get the gist of what Rick was trying to say, but failed at the words. Quickly the ex-sergeant walked over and wrapped his arms around Carl's waist, pulling him effortlessly.

"Hey!" Lyra shouted. "Let him go, you shit!"

She punched Abraham with all her might, effectively staggering him but not enough to send him to the ground. Carl pushed himself out of the man's weakened grip just as Abraham took a swing at Lyra who deflected much to his surprise. The ex-sergeant looked down to see the dogtags bounce against Lyra's breast.

"Nice tags."

Quickly Abraham threw a jab that Lyra was able to block but his strength against her was incomparable. The deflection knocked Lyra off balance and Rick came up. He grabbed Lyra by her wounded shoulder and slammed her against the metal work table.

"Argh!" Lyra bit her lip as she felt some wounds pinch together.

Abraham grabbed Carl again this time pinning the teen's arms to his sides.

"Dad stop!" Carl shouted as Abraham reinforced his grip. "Please!"

Without hesitation, Carl swung his leg up as hard as possible. It connected with Abraham's groin and the man fell like a stone. The teen loosened himself from the man's weakened grip and rushed up, putting himself between Lyra and his father.

"Enough!"

The word run strong through the shop. Rick looked down at his son with complete surprise, usually Carl would stay out of the way or be on his side in these situations. But to see him like this...Rick also took note that Lyra wasn't stopping Carl in any form.

"Dad...," Carl voice was whispered now, but it was still clear. "Just...go, please."

All three men looked at the teen, each shocked at what had just taken place. Lyra had her head slightly bowed, one arm thrown across her stomach to cradle the sore wounds. However the glare on her face never wavered.

 _Clang!_

The sound caught all off guard.

"Shit," Lyra hissed. "It's them."

"Dad, you have to go!" Carl shouted.

"Not without you," the father replied firmly. "Carl, let's go."

The son scowled, glaring at his father. "Not without Lyra."

Unconsciously, Rick balled his fists.

"Son, I'll drag your ass out of here if I have to!"

 _Clang!_

Rick's head snapped up as the sound was louder, indicating how close Negan and his Saviours were.

"Eugene, Abraham, go around to the front. Find out how many Saviours he has."

He looked over at a closed work table.

"That has doors right?"

Lyra nodded however slightly confused.

"Dad. Just-."

Suddenly it dawned on the apprentice.

"Carl, go set out the tools, light a fire under the pot and spread the casings," Lyra ordered. "Make it look like we were working. Hide the slingshot and toss me that crowbar."

Carl threw it over and Rick caught it as he crossed past Lyra. She caught the quick, dark glare in the leader's eye but Lyra easily ignored it.

Rick broke the lock easily and opened the doors.

"It's gonna be a tight squeeze," Lyra said looking into the hollow table.

"I don't have a choice," Rick countered darkly.

"I'm not forcing you to do this."

"I want my son."

"And I want to get out of here."

Rick's eyes flicked downcast momentarily. He turned to the hollow work table. Cautiously he got in, unable to keep a slight grimace. The confinement, reeked of years old oil, metal pieces and dirt.

"You know this is illegal right Deputy Sheriff?"

Lyra's throaty chuckle echoed around Rick in the space as he squeezed in the best he could. When she looked up, Rick saw her joshing expression drop in less than a second making it seem like she's never had a happy moment in her life. Before, he could stop her Lyra shoved his leg in the confine space.

"I'm going to bind this as best I can with wire," Lyra whispered tapping the metal doors. She looked at Rick gravely, "If he finds you, he'll beat you to death with Carl watching."

Rick nodded, understanding. Lyra returned the gesture and closed the doors, sending the father into complete darkness.

Once she finished binding the doors, Lyra looked over to see Carl pouring metal into the melting pot.

"Will he be okay?"

Lyra walked up to Carl.

"Don't be so hard on your dad kid."

"I'm not leaving without you."

The apprentice looked at the teen for a few beats. She reached up and stroked his head a couple times before nodding her thanks.

"Hey shit stains!"

The two looked up to see Jordan strolling into the shop. Behind him was Dwight, and about five Saviours.

"Enough," Dwight said.

"Where's Negan?" Carl demanded.

"Missing him already? Don't worry boy, you'll see him soon enough." Dwight turned to Lyra. "Where's the bag?"

"It's being a slow week," the apprentice said.

The lead Saviour pushed past her and peered into the bag.

"Fuck, there's nothing here!"

"'Nothing there?'" a deep familiar voice echoed. All turned to see Negan strolling in leisurely flanked by six other Saviours. Lucille on his shoulder and his other hand in his pocket. "There better not fucking be anything there."

Dwight moved out of the way. With Lucille, Negan propped the top of the bag open and he made a show of disappointment.

"The boy _too_ distracting for you?" he asked Lyra, in response the apprentice scowled.

Negan let the bag drop and looked at the two.

"This calls for punishment."

Lyra immediately stepped forward.

"It's my faul-."

Negan cut her off.

"It seems like you already learned your fucking lesson," Negan said nodding to the wounds on Lyra's face. "But this...little shit...Cocky little shit didn't seem to get the message the first fucking time around! Boys!"

Immediately two Saviours jumped Carl. Instinctively, the boy reared back avoiding Jordan's reaching hands, but found himself cornered quickly. The other Saviour grabbed Carl by the wrist and pulled him forward, his other hand came down on the back of the teen's neck effectively pinning him to the ground.

"Enough Negan!" Lyra shouted as two other Saviours held her. "Let him go, you wanna beat on someone – then come fucking at me!"

Negan raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't say that I was going to beat him. Take off the bandages."

Carl was hoisted to his feet and the Saviour grabbed a handful of Carl's hair as Jordan took out a knife. Easily he sliced through the gauze and dropped the slightly wet pad on the ground.

"Hmm...you know wet stitches can actually cause the fucking infections," Negan said. He held out Lucille, which Dwight took. He pulled a pen knife from his pocket and flicked it open. Carl straightened trying to keep still, he looked over at Lyra who tried to strain against the Saviours but they had a firm grip on her.

"Wet stitches means that you won't be useful," Negan explained, "which would be a shame... You've got spunk kid."

He pressed the blade against the stitches and the other gripped the back of Carl's head. Carl grit his teeth as he felt the tip of the knife press against the edge of his eyelids. Each stitch gave a small pop, as the blade slide over the thin wet thread.

The last stitch popped yet Carl kept the eyelids firmly closed. Negan grabbed the teen's chin and forced him to look at him.

"Open up boy, or I'll have Jordan cut them off."

Slowly the lids peeled back revealing the empty socket. Carl tried to turn his head but Negan didn't let go. The leader thumbed the edge of the socket, his thumb moved over the socket completely blocking the darkness coming from the teen's socket. Negan grinned.

"Shot in the head without dying...now that's something boy."

Carl shifted feeling uncomfortable. He looked over at Lyra who helplessly watched, a ghost of sorrow went to the teen. His father was also underneath the metal work table, listening - god knows what he was feeling right now! Lyra gave a nervous glance back glad that Rick didn't have any slits to see, as Negan raised the knife again. If the leader managed to get out then it would be a slaughter, and if Mr. Porter and Abraham came in, they'd be killed in a heartbeat as well. Lyra hoped she bound the doors tight enough.

"Absolutely nothing," the leader mused. "Nothing in there fucking stopping this going straight into your fucking skull."

Lyra's heart jumped into her throat as Negan slowly inched the blade deeper and deeper into Carl's socket. She saw the teen visibly shake, and could swear that his palpating heart was visible through his shirt.

The tension in the room escalated as a slight grin played on Negan's face.

"Have you ever being curious boy?" the psychotic leader asked, "About what it feels like? To be that close to touching your skull?"

Carl desperately tried to catch the breath that left his body at an incredible rate. He felt something slid out of his eye and was embarrassed to know that it was tears.

"Don't worry boy, it's almost over."

Carl felt his teeth suddenly bit the inside of his cheek reflexively as he felt a small prod in his head. Then it suddenly hit him – it was the tip of the knife. More tears streamed down his face against the teen's will.

"Think the boy learned his lesson," Negan declared taking the blade out slowly. He flicked the penknife closed and stuffed it back in his pocket. He looked over at Dwight and snapped his fingers. The lead Saviour walked up and handed Lucille back.

"Give 'em the fucking rations, and let's get going."

Wordless the two Saviours released Lyra. She immediately rushed over to Carl who remained rooted to the spot, silent tears still pouring down his face. Words formed in the apprentice's mind but she was unable to get them out, they were stuck as if clogging her throat blocking all air.

 _Thud!_

Lyra looked over to see the bag of rations being dropped on the metal table where Rick was hiding under. She unconsciously bristled as Negan leaned up against the table.

"I'm tired of fucking waiting" Negan said twirling Lucille before pointing it at Lyra. "You shits have one more fucking week to get the double ammo batch finished. Or else I'll get some other shit to come in and take one of your fucking places. The other gets the fucking iron."

"We finish our batch, what about Alexandria?"

Negan smirked. "If that fucking prick doesn't have my fucking supplies, then I'll beat in another fucking head. And I'll keep doing it, till the shit understands who the fuck is in charge!"

"You think that my dad'll just give you what you want?"

Negan grinned, happy to see that the teen had finally started speaking.

"That fucker with the beanie back at Hilltop loves to fucking talk," Negan answered.

"Didn't need much convincing," Jordan added, his knife flashing in the light. "Squirmy little shit, that punk is."

Negan pushed himself off the table.

"One fucking week," he reminded. He motioned to his Saviours to follow. Silently, Lyra and Carl watched them leave and didn't realize they were holding in their breathes until the lock was thrown.

"Carl."

Lyra looked down to see the teen take in a shaky breath, he quickly brushed the tears off his face. Wordless, Lyra walked over to the door and undid the wire. As she pulled the wire out, the doors flung open nearly knocking her to the ground.

"Carl!" The father rushed over to his son who was still rooted to the spot in shock. Rick reached up to cup his son's face but stopped, there was a blank expression on Carl's face yet underneath held the hint of pain that he struggled to keep out. Gently Rick pulled Carl into a light embrace. The son didn't respond.

"I'm so sorry," Rick whispered, "please...come home with me. Please..."

Carl looked over at Lyra. She tossed the wire on the table and looked into the rations bag. Lyra looked back and caught the teen's eye. She turned back at the table blankly.

"He'll kill her dad," Carl said, his voice low and hoarse. "I can't...she'll die."

Rick looked at Lyra who held his stare, but her expression wasn't hardened instead it was mixed with sorrow and understanding.

Heavy footsteps entered the room. Abraham and Eugene both came in with fresh blood on their clothes.

"Rick we gotta go," Abraham said.

With a heavy heart and much difficulty, the father nodded. He looked back at Carl and drew him in once more before kissing him on the head.

"I love you, son," Rick whispered before drawing Carl into one last embrace. He got up and briskly walked to Eugene and Abraham. As he passed Lyra, Rick looked over to see her give him a suspicious look. Rick stopped.

"I need something," he said getting right to the point.

"You've got balls Grimes," Lyra replied.

"Alexandria needs more ammo."

"Mr. Porter knows how to make ammo no doubt."

"If what Negan said is true, then we could be at war a lot sooner than we expected. The double bullets you and Carl are making will be used against us."

"They _are_ being used against anyone who gets on Negan's bad side. Hate to say it but even Carl knows that."

Rick looked over at his poor son who was now sitting on the stool but other than that, motionless.

"I _can_ save you, both of you. But I need help."

"And how the fuck am I supposed to give you the bullets? Messenger pigeon?"

"I'll come back in two weeks. One week concentrate on Negan but..."

"In the background, you want me to work for you."

Rick took in a breath.

"To work _with_ me, to take down that psycho. I don't know what happened to your knee but I _know_ that Negan was involved," Rick paused, " I need your help Lyra, and I know that my son is counting on you too."

Lyra's eyes flicked downcast. She wanted Negan to pay for what he had done to Carl, to humiliate and taunt the boy in such a cruel, unforgiving way. As for herself...

"Just this once," Lyra said, "and then you get us out."

Rick nodded.

Rick watched as Abraham went back to clear through the walkers. He looked over at Eugene who had watched the two converse. There was an uncharacteristic dark glare flash across his face when Rick caught his eye. The leader had no doubt that the former teacher had heard the conversation, but Rick would have to deal with him later.

"Let's go."

XXXXXX

Rick got out of the vehicle, to his luck the Alexandrians weren't around. There was a slam from the passenger door and he saw Eugene marching back to the shed.

"Hey!" the leader shouted, he went ignored. Rick ran up to him and pulled him around.

"Why'd you do it?" Eugene demanded. "Why'd you tell Lyra that?"

"I'll get her Eugene, I promise."

"What's going on?"

All three men looked out to see Rosita and Sasha coming out of the house. Immediately the two women could feel the tension between Eugene and Rick.

"What's going on?" Sasha asked.

Eugene didn't respond, instead just turned on his heel and headed back to the shed. Rosita went to follow him but Abraham stopped her.

"Rick...," The ex-sergeant looked over to see Rick heading back to the vehicle. "Wait, where are you going?"

"I need to see what Jesus told Negan."


	8. Chapter 8

Lyra looked over at Carl who had being oddly quiet ever since the taunt that Negan had so gleefully delivered. She wanted to speak, to see if she could give him some comfort of sort but Lyra knew there was none. In fact Lyra was a bit beside herself with her own behaviour. She was accustomed to seeing Negan taunt, and humiliate people in the Sanctuary, including Kaz and Stacy. Even then she had given neither the comfort she had wanted to give Carl, so what made him so different?

Lyra bowed her head and continued to work quietly, her mind drifting into memories.

 _The apprentice opened the door. Her flimsy bag cutting into her shoulder but she was able to block out the pain long enough to find Stacy. The young woman was wearing matching red bra and panties with the usual black thigh-straps, her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail unlike most of the other women but it did reveal her unique features including her heterochromia blue and brown eyes._

 _Stacy looked up to see Lyra come in. Quickly looking around, Stacy got up from the couch and walked briskly over to the apprentice. Gently Stacy raised a hand to touch the fresh scar on Lyra's cheek._

" _What happened?"_

" _Kaz g_ _ot into a fight again," Lyra admitted. "He was getting himself killed."_

" _Was it Steven again?"_

" _Jordan, his idiot older brother."_

 _Stacy let out a small sigh._

" _How's Kaz doing?"_

" _Holding up, but it's getting hard for him."_

 _Stacy bit her lip nervously. Her eyes darted this way and that to see some of the other women looking at her pointedly._

" _Tell him...I'm managing."_

" _He's not going to believe me!" Lyra whispered. The last time she was up, Stacy sent her with a message to Kaz, unfortunately the young man thought that the apprentice was making it up._

" _I didn't say you could get off the couch."_

 _Both looked over to see Negan standing in the doorway of his quarters. He looked from one to the other and then over to his other women who took a sudden interest in the pillows they were sitting on._

" _Stacy," the sadistic leader warned._

 _Without hesitation the young woman walked back to the couch and sat where she had previous. Lyra saw that Stacy was slightly trembling as Negan slowly walked up to her._

" _What were you two talking about?" the man asked, a small smile on his face._

 _Stacy flinched as he sat beside her._

" _Just saying hi," she said._

 _Negan's hand rubbed her back roughly, travelling up to her neck._

 _Lyra shifted uncomfortably. "I'll ju-."_

" _No, no, you're fine where you are right there Lyra."_

 _The apprentice remained against her will. She was directly in front of Negan and Stacy. Her grip tightened on the bag as she watched Negan's hand rub the back of Stacy's neck._

" _So, Lyra," Negan began, "do you like your accommodations?"_

 _Lyra's 'accommodations' were a single cot on the floor in the small room she had to use as a shop. She was given two meals a day along with water, however she didn't eat with the others as she wasn't allowed too. When inquiring why, Dwight had told her that Negan didn't trust her enough from spreading lies through his Sanctuary. In fact the only ones allowed near the shop was the Saviours._

" _Their fine," Lyra said biting her tongue to stop herself from calling Negan every name that came into mind._

" _Dwight tell's me your coming along with the amount of bullets you're pushing out," Negan said, "I'm happy to hear that."_

" _Kaz is doing his share too," Lyra said darkly._

 _Negan rubbed his stubble. "Now, that's where things get a little...touchy don't they?"_

 _Lyra tensed as Negan leaned in, his lips nearly touching Stacy's ear._

" _Kaz has being causing some trouble from what I hear, sabotaging batches and such," the leader informed. His hand massaging the back of Stacy's neck._

" _He's co-operating," Lyra argued, her voice climbing._

" _That's not what Steven told me, or Jordan or Dwight."_

 _Lyra was about to speak when Negan leaned in and kissed Stacy possessively on the neck. The young woman visibly bristled but knew better than to try and squirm away. Lyra watched Stacy submit in a blink of an eye, her eyes lowering as the leader pulled away._

" _Why don't you tell Lyra what you get Stacy?"_

" _Food, clothes and protection."_

 _Negan smiled. "All I promised two months back right?"_

 _Stacy nodded. Lyra gripped her bag and forced herself to remain calm._

" _You said that one of the support beams was cracked."_

 _Negan rose from the couch, he pulled Lucille up onto his shoulder and walked over to Lyra. The man had a couple inches on Lyra herself, but she remained tall._

" _I'm keeping my end of the fucking deal, so what the fuck is up with you two shits?"_

 _Lyra scowled, "we're keeping up wi-."_

" _Or perhaps you campaigned your talent and skills a little too fucking much?"_

 _The apprentice felt something prick the palm of her hand. To her realization, it was her own fingernails._

" _You're getting your bullets, your weapons are being fixed and so is the structure," Lyra reminded. "We're doing our work."_

 _Negan got off the couch. "Go into my room ladies."_

 _The other four didn't hesitate. Stacy slowly got off the couch, unsure._

" _Not you."_

 _Stacy swallowed and went back to lower herself on the couch when Negan called her again. She looked over at Lyra who stepped forward but Negan swung Lucille her way, nearly catching her in the face._

" _You can take that off," Negan said pointing to the bag on Lyra's shoulder._

 _The apprentice slowly let the bag drop,_ thud _._

" _Stacy," the leader called back to the young woman. "Take off your bra."_

 _The poor woman flinched as if the man had struck her than giving a verbal order. Rooted to the spot, and knowing she had no other choice, Stacy did as she was told. Lyra flinched as she saw tears starting to form in the woman's eyes._

" _Stop," Lyra didn't know when she said it, but she felt her throat constrict as the word came out. Negan ignored her and turned back to Stacy._

" _And the rest."_

 _Both women gaped at the order. Lyra instinctively stepped forward, but Negan flicked his wrist and she went down clutching her left knee._

" _Lyra!" Stacy gasped. She was about to step forward but stopped as the sadistic leader merely looked at her._

" _What did I say?"_

 _With a heavy heart, the young woman took off the thigh-straps and panties. Lyra got off the ground with slight trouble and glared at Negan. Every fibre of her being wanted to throw a punch at the man, but Lyra knew that if she did Negan would beat her to death with Stacy watching._

 _Walking over to Stacy, Negan trailed a hand across her shoulders and down the curve of her breast. Lyra went to take a step forward when Stacy gave a slight shake of her head. The apprentice tensed but remained._

" _Oh...so you can be controlled," Negan teased. "Well that's interesting."_

" _Leave her alo-," Stacy bit her lip as the man gave her breast a rough squeeze._

" _I didn't say you can talk," Negan warned. He turned back to Lyra, who tried to look away. "You look away again, I'll have the other four out here."_

 _Lyra took in a slight breath, her hands balled into fists. She watched as Negan ran his fingers through Stacy's ponytail, before turning back._

" _Hey Lyra," the leader called, "why don't you have someone?"_

 _The apprentice bit down hard on her cheek._

" _I asked you a fucking question," Negan reminded, her hand on the back of Stacy's neck. The other trailing circles on her breast._

" _I don't need one," Lyra replied quickly._

 _The leader gave a loud, strong laugh. It echoed in the room, sending chills down Stacy and Lyra's spine._

" _Now there's a fucking answer!" Negan said gleefully. "That's why I keep you around, that and your skills of course." He looked at the bag on the ground to the apprentice. "Else, I would've fucking excommunicated you, months ago."_

" _Do you want you damn beams fixed or not?" Lyra snapped. Immediately she knew it was the wrong thing to say as the hand on the back of Stacy's neck tightened. She couldn't help but show her discomfort._

" _Aw...," Negan tsked, "you're making Stacy, here uncomfortable."_

 _Lyra swallowed, as the leader gave the young woman a slight shake._

" _It's alright," Negan whispered to Stacy, "You can tell her."_

 _The young woman looked from her leader to the apprentice._

" _Tell her, you're fucking uncomfortable."_

 _Stacy looked at Lyra with shameful eyes, "I...I'm uncomfortable..."_

 _Negan shook his head,"tell her again, I don't think Lyra believed you."_

" _Negan," Lyra whispered gritting her teeth. "Stop it."_

" _I'm uncomfortable," Stacy tried, her eyes brimmed with tears. Negan reached up and brushed one away as it trailed._

" _Now you've made her fucking cry," Negan sighed looking over to Lyra. The apprentice's body was taunt like a bowstring, her mind blank and every cell in her body on high alert._

" _Good girl," Negan said kissing Stacy on the neck. "Now Lyra...did you ever have someone? Before all this I mean?"_

" _No."_

" _Really?"_

" _Yes."_

 _Negan pondered thoughtfully. He released Stacy and walked over to Lyra, Lucille between the two._

" _I wonder, is it because your lack of enthusiasm?" Negan asked, nodding to Lyra's groin. "That you failed to attract anyone?"_

" _None of your fucking business."_

 _Negan smiled. "You're apart of my group, you're in my Sanctuary – so I'll make it my fucking business. Now...why couldn't you get anyone? Before or after, either fucking one?"_

 _Lyra swallowed, "I don't know."_

" _Too many fucking walls around your heart? Trying to be 'hard'? What were you trying to be?"_

" _Nothing."_

 _Negan grinned, pointing Lucille at the apprentice._

" _Absolutely nothing huh? Fucking nothing! And if you were something? If people actually gave a fucking shit, they'd just flock right to you, their fucking dicks right out!"_

 _Lyra bristled but felt a slight shudder run through her body._

" _But, maybe you gave a shit once. Just fucking once, to see how it tastes. To watch them run back and forth for you, for them to do anything for you. But then you fucked up, and it all went to shit."_

 _The apprentice remained silent, suddenly the image of Cory flashed in her mind. Her balled hands shook at her side and her jaw tightened. Negan smiled._

" _So who was it? Who did you metaphorically fuck?"_

 _Unable to stop herself, Lyra lunged at Negan, but he was ready – more than ready. He swung Lucille downward catching the apprentice on the shoulder. Lyra fell like a rock, gritting her teeth in pain and feeling blood leak between her fingers. Her eyes pricked with tears as her breath came out ragged._

" _Not quite the reaction I was hoping," Negan admitted standing over Lyra. "But close enough."_

 _A tightness gripped Lyra's breast making it feel like she was going to suffocate. More images of Cory wormed their way into her mind, his words assaulting her ears deafening her. Lyra refusing to cry in front of the sadistic leader, not wanting to give him any more satisfaction she had already unintentionally given him._

" _Now," Negan called out, he turned to Stacy who looked on in slight horror. "Put your clothes on and go get the other girls, the apprentice here needs to get to work."_

XXXXXX

The day slowly turned into night. Once supper was finished, Lyra went up to the second floor to find some quiet. She took the slingshot with her to release some of the pent up anger on walkers below.

She had to have being up there for a couple hours. Shooting, sitting and moving, walking around in circles while at other times still as if made of stone. So Lyra perked up slightly when she heard footsteps. She looked over at Carl who slowly walked over.

"Hey," the apprentice offered.

Wordless Carl sat on the broken stone beside her and leaned against Lyra. The action took her by slight surprise. His hands were rested on his lap, but his head against her arm. Lyra adjusted accordingly, her arms wrapped around the teen's shoulders and laid back against the pile of broken wall. The stone poked into her back but oddly Lyra was able to ignore it. She looked down to see that Carl was able to place his head on her shoulder, and he did so without hesitation.

 _Why you?..._

Young, and fragile, but here Carl was. Protected by his friends and family, but capable of some things on his own. The want to be dependent and free, but the need to around others and safe.

Lyra knew that Carl was facing these things, because she had faced them herself. When she was with her father, Lyra wanted nothing more than to prove that she could be independent and counted on to do anything. When she was in Woodbury, she was cautious and slightly angry. Angry that she had to be around people she didn't know, that she had to watch as Cory had all the freedom to go to and fro with the enforcers. Holding in a caution that she could never shake off, that caution grew ten folded when she had entered the prison. Even after being saved from the brink of death, even after building all the metal works for the prison.

The two sat for a long time. Head on each others, bodies close and hands intertwined. Lyra was curious when it had started for Carl, how long it had being going on for him. Looking at the teen, Lyra saw that he still had a boyish feature to him that gave off a sort of innocent image. His blue eye near to the colour of the ocean, and the way his thin lips pulled into a small smirk when he had thought about doing something clever or amusing.

"When it first started I was about a year into my apprenticeship," Lyra spoke quietly. "I only had my first level, was applying to take my second."

Carl looked over at Lyra.

"I took a year off when I got out of high school, helped my dad mostly."

"What about your mother?"

"She died when I was five, car accident and she was a bypasser and got struck."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I." Lyra paused. "I studied under a good man, but I'm no where close to what people expect me to be."

"You built the metal gate back at the prison," Carl said, "I watched you, every day."

"I know you did." Lyra looked at the shocked expression on the teen's face, underneath it was a hint of embarrassment.

"I don't care what you had back then," the teen said continuing, "you are a great tradesperson, and you know how to do some blacksmithing."

"Anyone tell you, you're good a flattery kid?"

A small smirk played on Carl's lips. Lyra pressed her head against the teen's, she slowly raised a hand to Carl's cheek. The teen pressed his face in the crook of her palm feeling the roughness of her skin yet the warmth. Gently, Lyra leaned in feeling the teen's slight breath against her lips.

Carl felt a slight catch in his throat, but he quickly swallowed it and leaned in. His lips brushed against Lyra's at first. Then he leaned further in and captured Lyra's lips in his own. He felt another hand cup his face and Carl took the opportunity. He drew Lyra into a long deep kiss, one that he had wanted to feel all the way back in the prison.

The kiss was strong. He could taste the sharp rawness and life inside Lyra, he could feel it slipping into him willingly filling him with his own life. He felt Lyra's tongue caress his, the two playing a slight dance and Carl wanted nothing more to stay sitting like so. Let everything else melt away, and just remain.

"I need you," Carl moaned.

His arms wrapped around the apprentice's body, feeling her muscles shift and move as she adjusted herself. He gently nipped at Lyra's throat, feeling her muscles rumble as she chuckled.

"You're biting off more than you can chew," she replied, her voice low and almost in a moan itself.

Carl drew Lyra in once more, pulling her to the ground with him as he laid a hand on her leg. Lyra pulled her shirt off and Carl held in a gasp.

All over Lyra's torso were scars of different lengths and sizes. Some looked more like scratches like others looked like deep gouges, distorting the flesh on her body.

Carl reached up and touched the one on her side. He felt Lyra tense under the delicate touch. She didn't speak, just allowed him to explore every single one. His mind racing, trying to keep up with what he was seeing. Then, Carl took off his own shirt. The wound on his shoulder scabbing over, and the circular scar on his stomach with other scars around it.

Lyra placed her palm over the scar and Carl felt heat rise in his body. Secretly, the teen had always being embarrassed about it. It showed that he let his guard down, that he was distracted. Things that Carl had promised never to allow to happen again. He looked at Lyra, bearing his own secrets for her as she had just now. In their eyes, they shared the same light, the same emotion - knowing.

"Don't be afraid to be human," Lyra whispered trailing a hand down the teen's face. "Even if you regret it later."

Carl closed his eyes, thinking about his father. His relationship with Michonne, was that why he did it? To still be human?

Carl pulled Lyra down gently and drew her into a deep kiss. Their tongues played gently together, tasting and testing each other, yet letting each know that each are there – that they are together.

"L-lyra," Carl tried to speak. The desire inside building up until the point where he thought he was going to explode. The apprentice drew him in once more, kissing him passionately. She undid his belt and Carl returned the favour, careful not to bump her knee.

The two continued to nip and play with each other as they started to take off their clothes. Soon they were fully exposed for each other. Carl trailed his fingers over Lyra' rough skin, feeling the warmth emitting from the flesh. He felt Lyra's over hands trailing over his body, her fingertips gliding over his thighs making a new sensation tingle through his body all the way to the tip of his member.

With a sudden pull, Carl found himself on top of Lyra. Her dark hair fanned around her, the muscles in her throat, taunt as she drew in a breath and kissed him once more. Giving a slight chuckle, Carl kissed her back and then felt an urge. A familiar urge when he had back at the prison, when he had watched Lyra sleep – but this was more powerful, and unlike any other sensation.

Unable to hold back, Carl entered Lyra. He felt the warm muscles contract around his member and heard the slight gasp Lyra gave as she pulled Carl closer. He felt his throat tighten as he too felt like breath catch in his throat, his mouth slightly part as a gasp escaped his own lips.

The two moved in sync with each other. Their hips grating against each other, and gasps turning into low moans. Carl bent his head low, kissing between Lyra's breasts. She moaned as he caught one of her nipples and giving it a kiss before pulling up.

Lyra caught Carl's parted lips and kissed him as she felt intense passion rise from the teen. Carl returned the kiss in a heartbeat not once breaking pace as he felt Lyra pull him closer still. Carl bit his lip as he felt a pressure rise in his member. He felt sweat build on his neck and back.

"L-lyra," he moaned. "I..."

She kissed his mouth passionately. One arm around his neck and the other across his back, she could feel her own pressure building up making her gasp.

After a few more thrusts, the two climaxed together. Each gave a shudder, feeling their body go taunt momentarily, before relaxing. Carl laid on top of Lyra for a few moments. He pulled out of her, and rolled onto the side. Stringy cum coated his member and oozed on his skin as he laid flat on his back. He took slow steady breaths to calm his still racing heart. Carl looked over at Lyra who turned onto her side and pressed her lips against the teen's head. Slowly she trailed down his cheek, to his lips. Carl kissed back he felt a light sensation fill him.

This sensation made him feel happy, made him feel content. He felt Lyra run her long fingers through his hair, the other hand intertwined in his own. He closed his eyes, feeling her kiss his forehead and then both eyelids. Carl shuddered when he felt the heat from of Lyra's lips against his socket.

"I love you," Carl whispered; moaned.

Lyra gently pulled him against her chest, stroking his cheek and brushing through his hair.

"I love you too," Lyra moaned.

The two looked out to the sky, seeing stars starting to appear. They watched as more appeared as the sky grew darker. Occasionally the two would kiss, their hands playing on each other's body and the heat of their bodies keeping each other warm. Adjusting themselves on their strewn clothes, they closed their eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

Lyra and Carl woke about the same time. A soft warm breeze washed over them, as the sun peaked over the horizon, casting shadows on the broken floor. Lyra felt Carl shift closer to her on the strewn clothes on the rough ground. His body against her own made Lyra warm. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and drew him in pressing her head against his.

 _Don't be afraid to be human._

It was easier said than done in this world. Lyra was struggling, Carl was struggling and she knew that Rick was struggling. She wondered what he was thinking of doing, what his plan was – if he even had a plan at all.

Hilltop would never help them, not that the leader of Alexandria was officially at the top of Negan's personal shit list. Lyra had only met Gregory and Jesus once when the two were forced to the Sanctuary to witness an ironing. Afterward it was clear from their paled expressions that there was going to be no struggle from Hilltop.

Carl looked over his shoulder at Lyra. She was trying to hide it but it was clear she was in deep thought. The teen turned over completely and touched his head against Lyra's feeling her snuggle closer as a low chuckle emitted from her throat.

"Morning to you too," Lyra groaned stretching her legs feeling them give a satisfied crack.

"Morning," Carl mumbled. "...how are you...feeling?"

Lyra raised an eyebrow. "You want a rating or something?"

The apprentice enjoyed watching a deep blush enter Carl's cheeks. She let out a low laugh.

"I'm doing fine, and you?"

"Doing fine too."

Carl gently cupped Lyra's face and pulled her into a deep kiss. He felt her comply, and pull him close. When they pulled apart, Carl nuzzled the crook of Lyra's neck as she stroked his hair.

"Come on," she whispered giving Carl a small peck on the lips. He was as she got up. His plaid shirt falling from her naked body. Unintentionally, his eye landed on the brace screwed into Lyra's knee. Deep down, the thing scared Carl. It looked like a torture device from a horror movie that his mother always warned him about. Carl knew that the one behind it was Negan, and the teen wanted nothing more for the psycho to pay.

Slowly Carl got up, pulling his pants on watching Lyra do the same. The two dressed slowly enjoying the heat warming their skin knowing that they would have to begrudgingly go back to work.

"Hey Carl?"

The teen looked over at Lyra. She had a slight conflicted expression on her face.

"I know you don't want to hear this, but your father asked me to do something."

Carl felt himself bristle slightly. He had picked up slight gargles of words before his father left, however wasn't completely paying attention.

"What does he want?" Carl asked bluntly.

"He asked me to make bullets," Lyra said, not wanting to beat around the bush.

"What the...? You said no right?"

"I told him that I would."

Carl's brow furrowed. "Why would you do that?"

"Maybe it's dumb luck that your father has a plan, or maybe it'll be used for hunting. I sure as hell hope it's the latter Carl."

The teen turned back to the ladder. He felt anger rise in him, why would his father go behind his back like that? Part of Carl sided with his father, to not give into a man like Negan and fight with everything. But the other part wanted his father to just do as the psychotic leader wanted, because every time Rick fought he'd end up bringing more trouble upon the group. Not only that, but Carl didn't want to get Lyra more involved than she already was.

A gently hand went on his shoulder and he looked back at Lyra who was giving him a look of concern.

"I want you to work on the bullets for Sanctuary, I'll worry about your dad," Lyra said, her tone making it clear the topic wasn't up for conversation.

Carl let out a small protesting _humph_ but didn't say anything.

XXXXXX

The day dragged on slowly. Carl made bullets for the Sanctuary while Lyra worked on the ones for Alexandria. Even though the two weren't on the same page in terms of helping Rick or not, their thoughts would drift back to last night.

Carl felt a small swallow slip down his throat as a similar sensation rushed through his body to the tip of his member. He could feel a blush spread over his face as he struggled to keep an urge down. After a few minutes of staring at empty casings, Carl felt like he was getting control over himself.

 _Lyra's just a young woman...nothing to get...to get..._

Despite the thought, Carl knew that it was more than that. The two had sex, they had shared the mutual feelings they had for each other. The teen wanted Lyra to like him, to love him and had hoped that she wanted to same – for he did. It was a feeling that he had never thought he'd have after he was forced to put his mom down. Now the feeling was right in his face, and he had acted.

The father and son had only spoken of sex once back at the prison. It was when Carl had had his first wet dream and he was caught by Carol in the early hours of morning scrubbing furiously at his bed sheet. After an embarrassing attempt to send the mother away, Carl was successful but in return Carol came back with a confused Rick in tow. On the dirty laminate bathroom floor, Rick told Carl of the urges he would have and how natural it would be for him to feel such. It ended with the father gently inquiring whether Carl had ever felt for any of the girls in the prison, but Carl had done a quick check. They were either all too young or too old. The only one around his age was Lyra and that was already a five year difference. Quickly Carl had said no, not wanting to admit his feelings for the apprentice.

During the next couple weeks, Carl knew his dad was keeping an eye on him. Then he felt like the other men were watching him too and wondered if his dad had told the others what had happened. The thought angered Carl, it was none of their business anyway. It really wasn't his father's either, it was because Carol decided to run to his father. So for a good month, Carl distanced himself from the others as far as possible.

Now is a different story from five months ago. Carl was forcibly working for the enemy while watching his dad prepare to go to war against said enemy. It was hard for Carl to swallow when he thought about it properly, to know that his dad was actually planning on doing something extremely dangerous. Not all Alexandrians' trusted Rick, and now that he was demanding that they find a more supplies for a double cache would even further that gap. But no matter what his dad would do, Carl would be damned if he allowed Lyra to get hurt any more.

Halfway through the day the two took a break. They had a bit of food to keep their energy up and was passing back and forth a bottle of water.

"Do you want me to sew up your eye again?" Lyra asked.

Carl looked down slightly ashamed as he recalled Negan's taunt and humiliation.

"N-no," the teen replied, "I think I'll just keep it."

"Think that's a good idea?

"..yeah..."

Lyra set the bottle down.

"He plays games Carl. Negan likes to force people to change into their most vulnerable so that he can control them, make them easier to manipulate."

"He's not controlling me," the teen argued.

Lyra paused knowing that Carl was a bit wound up. She waited until he was calmer before continuing.

"If he can't change you mentally, then he will physically."

"I won't let him get to me," Carl promised.

Lyra gave him a weak smile. "I said the same thing Carl, promised the same promise. I stayed strong through his mental games, and in the end he cripples me. I can't walk without the brace, I can't even take it off."

Carl looked downcast trying to think of another way. He had to fight, he just had too. His dad was fighting and knew that the others were going to be too. If he stopped then it would be cowardice of him.

"I can't...," Carl answered, "my family...I can't just do nothing."

Lyra nodded thoughtfully. "I know Carl...but now...there's nothing you can do, that won't bring Negan's wrath onto them. That won't stop him from killing them."

Night drew closer again. The two were sitting sharing a meal when the doors were unlocked. Lyra got up and grabbed the bags while Carl set their food aside. Dwight came in first with Jordan and two others as usual. He took one look at the table set up then back at the two prisoners.

"Think this is a good time for a date?" he inquired.

Carl scowled wondering how the man knew from just a simple glance.

"None of-."

"Carl," Lyra chastised. Then looked at Dwight. "We have Negan's double bullets."

"I'll be the fucking judge of that."

The teen felt himself involuntarily bristle as the psycho walked in. He felt a sensation prick his empty socket making him flinch instinctively but Carl took in a slight breath forcing himself to remain calm.

"How ya feeling killer?" Negan asked playfully, his signature grin on for everyone to see.

"Fine," Carl scowled.

 _Smack!_

" _Argh!_ " The teen rubbed the back of his head ruefully casing a baleful glare at Jordan.

"Watch your tone boy," the Saviour ordered, "else you'll get a blade next."

Negan looked into the bags and gave a satisfied nod.

"Surprise, surprise, the fuck ups did it. Jordan, Cole take the bags to the vehicles. Everyone fuck off."

Lyra passed the bags over to the two Saviours and watched as the others left.

"Dwight, you stay."

The Saviour walked back to his spot leaning up against the work table. Negan looked over at Carl who still rooted from when they all walked in.

"Tell the boy who you found," Negan ordered pointing Lucille at the teen.

Dwight didn't look at Carl when he spoke. "Your dad was banging on Hilltop's gates demanding to be let in."

"What did you do to him?" the son demanded stepping forward.

"Nothing, your dad left when he realized Jesus was smart enough not to open the gates."

"What were you doing there?" Lyra asked

"Going for supplies."

"So why should I care?" Carl deflected bitterly.

Negan caught on immediately and grinned again.

"You're good boy," he said tapping Lucille on Carl's healed shoulder. "You're right, why should you give any fucks? It was just general information that I thought you'd like to know. A reward in a way, for all your fucking hard work."

"Did my dad give you double supplies?"

"Not yet. Going after that prick tomorrow. Why? Scared boy? You want to tell daddy what happened last week?"

Carl bristled as he spoke through clenched teeth, "no."

Negan raised an eyebrow, he passed Lucille over to his lead Saviour and walked up to the teen. Lyra straightened to stop the sadistic leader but Dwight got between them and forced the apprentice back.

Negan draped an arm around Carl's shoulders. The man had chosen the right side.

"A couple words between you and me boy," the leader said in a low voice so that only the teen could hear.

"Fuck you," Carl growled lightly.

Negan let out a few low chuckles. "Like father, like son..."

Carl looked over at Lyra who was tensed. It seemed like she was willing to plow through Dwight at that very moment to help Carl. The teen took in a slight breath.

"Fine...what do you want?"

"Did I ever tell you how I busted Lyra's leg?"

The blood rushed out of Carl's face. His mouth dropped and he looked over at the apprentice who immediately sensed something was wrong.

"Negan," Lyra tried but Dwight shoved her back against the table.

"Easy Dwight...She already learnt her lesson."

Negan looked back at Carl who tensed.

"Look at me boy."

The teen ignored Negan and continued to only have an eye for Lyra. A sudden tight grip on his hair caused him to grit his teeth in pain.

"Look at me fucker."

Because the psycho had chosen Carl's right side, the teen had to turn his head completely to face Negan. Carl caught the haughtily pride in the man's face.

"Lucille did a great job on your girlfriend's leg," the leader said, "I mean...I helped but...well, suppose that you can call it teamwork in fact. Like you and Lyra working on the bullets huh? Doing something together for a greater cause."

"Crippling Lyra is a great cause?" Carl demanded angrily. His hands balled into tight fists.

"I have her co-operation."

"So you beat her up because she wouldn't co-operate?"

Negan shrugged. "I suggest you take her as a fucking example kid of what happens to when you do something without my damn permission. You're a kid, so I'll let you off – but that doesn't give you permission to go fucking up."

"You have you double bullets," Carl reminded.

"I do."

A hand grabbed Carl's chin and forced him to look up.

"I know that look boy, truth be told I like you, but don't fucking push it."

Negan clapped him thrice on the back hard nearly knocking Carl to the ground.

"Let's get going."

Negan twirled Lucille onto his shoulder and called back: "Nice look kid."

XXXXXX

The cool bullets rolled in his hands. Eugene looked absent-mindedly at them before dumping them into the bucket. He heard a clash of voices not too far off but he ignored it knowing that it was just another pissed off Alexandrian. There seemed to be a lot of them these days.

Rick was basically forcing people out off the compound to find supplies wherever they could. However that proved dangers as some people would never come back, or come back injured by hostile survivors or even Hilltop itself who had being shooting off warnings to the Alexandrians who got too close.

A week ago, Rick had gone to Hilltop to try and get Jesus to talk but they didn't even open the gates for him. When he returned it was clear he was in a rage fit that Daryl and Abraham tried to snap him out of but nothing worked and Rick left. He returned two days later with two duffel bags filled with supplies and covered with blood. No one asked just took the bags. One was going to be used as the double cache while the other was distributed around to the Alexandrians.

Eugene was too in thought to hear Rosita come into the shed. It was only when she cleared her throat did he turn.

"Oh...hi," he said watching her come up.

"Have you being up all night?" Rosita asked, her tone indicating slight worry.

The news took the former teacher by surprise and he looked out the dirt streaked window to see the sun rise. 17 days.

"Guess so..."

He sat back down. 17 days since Glenn's death and Carl's capture – and only 7 days since he discovered Lyra was still alive.

"Eugene."

He looked over to see Rosita sitting down.

"Abraham told me what happened...about that girl."

Eugene didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry."

The former teacher ran a hand over his tired face. "Thanks."

Rosita looked down at the box of bullets. It was nearly half full, but then she looked at the materials on the table to see that there was very little left.

"This is why you haven't being in the house? To make bullets?"

"Rick's tricking Lyra into making bullets for him," Eugene answered darkly.

The young woman looked at him in surprise. "I don't think Ric-."

"Yes, he would. His judgement is being clouded over because of what Negan had done. You don't see it, but Negan is playing Rick, testing him. He took Carl for a reason and it wasn't just for bullets. He wants to see how well Rick will co-operate even at his lowest point."

Rosita swallowed sensing something off about her friend.

"Eugene I know you're worried about Lyra, but you have to trust Rick that he'll get her out – he'll get both of them out.

Eugene didn't say anything, a shadow crossed his face making his expression darker. Rosita shifted in slightly.

"Please, just try to understand it from Rick's point. He's desperate to get Carl back. Plus, Abraham told me that Lyra used to live at the prison. Maybe she wants to return the favour."

"What I can't figure out is why? Lyra's smarter than that, she should've seen through his words to know what Rick was trying to do. And if she did want to return the favour, Rick wouldn't have to spin a tale to get her. All he'd have to do is ask."

After that Rosita didn't know what to say. She was slightly confused herself, it was an extremely dangerous and audacious plan that Rick was concocting and for it to explode back at them was the last thing anyone wanted.

The shed door opened and Sasha walked in, she had a stern expression.

"What's wrong?" Rosita asked immediately.

"Negan's here."


	10. Chapter 10

"What the fuck is this shit show?"

Rick balled his fists tightly as he watched Negan look through the meagre supply cache. It wasn't a double, didn't even make a single and it was quite pathetic to look at much less think about. He looked over to see the few people who dared to stand by Rick's side when the Saviours arrived. It was Daryl, Michonne, Eugene and Abraham. Sasha and Tobin were up in sniper positions but it was clear that they wouldn't be able to fire off a single shot without being killed. Rosita wanted to be there, but Abraham convinced her to remain in the house so she wouldn't get targeted again.

Negan pointed Lucille right in Rick's face. The leader remained his ground despite having a barbed spike millimetres from his eye.

"We need more time."

The sadistic leader raised an eyebrow in mock surprise.

"Are you shitting me? More fucking time? I waited two fucking weeks to come back and you have this pathetic crap to show for."

"That's all we have!" Rick shouted.

"Then go scavenge, get your hand's dirty."

Rick bit the inside of his lip. He knew the option Negan was forcing him to do and that was go raid smaller groups and take theirs. It was a despicable act that Rick had promised himself that he'd never do.

"We'll find a way," the leader said through grit teeth.

Negan looked around and smirked.

"It's a shame really," Negan began, resting Lucille on his shoulder. "That you'd let a fucking teenager do all the back breaking work. You know your shit of a son and the bitch gave me a _double_ bullet cache yesterday?"

Rick's heart dropped. He looked over at the others who were also surprised.

"Now how much hope do you think that little killer will have when he discovers his father's fucking laziness huh?"

Rick didn't respond. In fact, he didn't really know how to. After his witness of Negan taunting his son, the father wanted nothing more than to slam the man's head into the ground until his brain was scattered. But the secret meeting had to remain their secret, Negan could never know that they had a way in and out.

"I have to admit though I have respect for your boy," the leader continued, "can really hold his own that kid."

"What the fuck did you do?" Daryl demanded. The hunter, having healed from his wound, stepped forward aggressively. The Saviours immediately adjusted themselves accordingly ready to pounce.

"Now, now...the man was just inquiring," Negan said holding off the attack. "You don't need to worry about the boy, tough little bastard too which makes seeing him that much more interesting!"

Everyone bristled at the thought of the psycho hurting their youngest member in anyway. Rick had every right mind to outright attack the sadist right then and there. He had seen Negan hurt his son, humiliate him and walk away as if the two had talked about the weather instead of putting a knife into Carl's empty socket.

"But this," the sadistic leader said, nodding to the pathetic supplies. "This can't go unpunished."

All at once, the Saviours lifted their guns surrounding the unarmed group to stop them from running.

"Now...which one should it be this time?" Negan grinned.

"Take the hunter," Jordan suggested, "fucker is still talking back."

"Nah...I know who I have in mind."

Eugene bristled as Lucille tapped him on the shoulder. He instinctively took a step back but was grabbed by the collar by Dwight and thrown to the ground.

"I'll take it!" Abraham rushing forward. He knew he had a better chance surviving whatever the leader was going to do, but the butt of a rifle slammed into his head.

"Abraham!" a distant voice screamed.

He struggled up feeling blood slid down his face.

"Rosita, stay back!"

Eugene looked up to see a gun rounded on the young Latino and she stopped in her tracks.

There was a low chuckle and everyone turned to Negan who looked like he was having a blast watching the scene in front of him.

"What's with you guys and wanting to save those you can't?" he asked with mock curiosity. "I have to say it's fucking entertaining."

Negan grabbed Eugene and pulled him more into the centre of the circle.

"I'm fucking tired of you not taking me seriously Grimes. Get the fuck over here."

Rick stopped. Slowly he walked over to where Eugene was forced to kneel, he stared his opponent down.

"Beat him."

An impregnable silence lain over the people.

Rick looked down at Eugene who cowered on the ground. When the man looked up, Rick couldn't help but turn away.

"Beat him," Negan repeated slowly as if he were speaking to a six year-old.

"No," Rick replied defiantly.

"It's either him, or her."

Lucille was raised and aimed at Rosita. She gasped as a Saviour quickly pulled her arms behind her back and forced her forward. Rosita stamped her feet into the ground but the man was too strong for her.

"Stop!"

Everyone looked at Rick. A mix of anger and shame was on his face, he looked down at Eugene who knew what his answer was going to be. Deep down, the man knew that Rick would never hurt Rosita or any of the women in the group, so the answer was obvious as soon as Negan had said it. Eugene gave a nervous swallow as he took in a blood-scent free gulp of air.

"I'm sorry," Rick whispered.

 _Wham!_

The first punch snapped the former teacher's head to the side. His eyes rolled and felt himself land on the ground.

"Shit...you've got some fucking pathetic followers," a distant voice commented. "Did I say fucking stop?"

Eugene felt a blow to his side and face again dazing him as he laid on the ground. He tried not to look at the others who on looked in horror. In the distance he heard someone scream his name as another blow was delivered to his head making him gasp.

"I know you went to Hilltop Colony," Negan said watching the beating continue. "That's the last fucking time. I hear that you went there ever again, it will be the Latino that's on the ground, understand?"

Unconsciously, Rick slammed his fist deep then his boot sunk in. When he finally realized what he was doing, Rick jumped back as if he were electrocuted. The leader looked down at the bloodied mess that Eugene was left in.

"So you were a teacher," Negan said.

The poor man didn't have the energy to respond. Negan looked up at Rick and he knew what the sadist wanted him to do. Lowering his eyes and feeling sick with himself, Rick gave Eugene a kick right in the gut.

" _Ugh!._..Yes."

"What did you teach?"

"Science."

"So you'd know how to fix things, make things and all that crap?"

Rick's heart dropped as he knew what Negan was getting at, and so did Eugene.

The man didn't respond, he didn't know what answer would save his life.

"Break his hand."

The order shocked everyone and Eugene instinctively drew in his hands but a foot slammed down on his arm keeping it from retreating. He struggled to look up with his good eye to see Jordan grinning menacingly at him.

"Do it," Negan ordered.

With a heavy heart, Rick looked down at Eugene who tried to speak but the foot on his wrist pressed even harder making him falter. His leader lifted his foot and then slammed it down with all his might.

"Argh!"

Jordan and Rick stepped back as Eugene pulled his broken hand to his body.

"Load the supplies."

A couple Saviours broke off and started to load up.

"That's the last fucking lesson," Negan warned Rick.

Negan turned around and nodded to his Saviours who backed off and returned to the vehicles.

"Dwight, Jordan...load up a couple cans of their gas." The sadistic leader turned to Rick. "You think that you can call us over just to waste gas? No...even your son would know better."

Everyone looked shocked as the two Saviours headed over to the shed. Rick clenched his fists, his mind berated him for just standing and doing nothing. He looked down at Eugene who hadn't moved and he felt ever worse.

"Give me another wasteful shit like this and the killer will work for me permanently."

Negan slammed the door and drove off. One-by-one the trucks left, once they were all through Heath rolled the gate over and locked it.

There was silence. A deep silence that no one wanted to break. Remaining silent, Abraham stepped forward and grabbed his friend. Eugene was out cold, most likely from the pain and blood loss. Daryl walked forward and helped the ex-sergeant pull Eugene to the medic bay. Rosita following behind.

Once the four were gone, Rick found that had was able to move again but choose not to. He was too disgusted with himself, he was too angry with himself. What would Lori think? What would Carl think? What is everyone else thinking?

XXXXXX

The night took over the day slowly. Lyra and Carl were perched up on the second floor looking out at the sky. Carl had gotten used to the moans of the dead below so he was able to tune them out. He leaned against Lyra who chuckled lightly before laying her head on top of his.

"Just one more," she whispered.

"Hmm," Carl responded.

"Then you get to go home."

Carl swallowed. "You're coming with me."

"It doesn't work like that, you know that."

"I don't care."

He felt a hand trail up and down his arm, he oddly felt the anger disperse from him. The soothing feeling made him breath easier.

"I'll save you," he whispered too low for Lyra to hear.

The two remained for a little longer. Carl felt a shudder run through his body as Lyra's hand played on his leg.

"I know you mean well Carl, but you need to think about yourself, to think about your family and friends."

The teen looked at the ground unable to admit that when he told his dad, he would never leave without Lyra, he meant it. Lyra would never allow it to happen, she had blamed herself for what happened to Cory, Kaz, and Stacy and didn't want to put Carl down on that list too.

Carl reached up and pulled the dog tags from Lyra's shirt. She was motionless watching him closely as the teen drew a slow thumb over the print.

"What happened?"

"He went out on a scavenge and got killed. Must've run into a bad crowd, the enforcers never came back for eight days and when they did, they didn't look so good."

'Enforcers'. The word made Carl unconsciously bristle as his mind drew out memories from when they were against Woodbury.

"I know you didn't like the place," Lyra said seeing Carl's darkened expression. "Trust me I hate it even less. Cory and I came across it by accident. We were ambushed by a small herd when we came across the wall. The enforcers took down the remainder of the herd before forcing us to surrender."

Carl let the tags drop back against Lyra who tucked them in safely. She didn't have a choice, and when his dad took her in it was clear that she wasn't well taken care of like the other citizens.

"Come on," Lyra said.

XXXXXX

The two went back down to the main floor. Lyra went to the bathroom while Carl climbed up the ladder to the cots. He laid against the hard mattress thinking of his dad. Did his dad get the double supply cache? He knew it couldn't be easy. If the people at Hilltop didn't open the gates for his dad then that mean that 'partnership' was off indefinitely.

Carl hoped that everything was going good on his father's side. He wished that he was able to be there for his dad, that he was there to help his friends. Carl hated that the only way to save himself was to work for the enemy, a sadistic son of a bitch. If it irked Carl, it was definitely killing his dad.

"If your face gets stuck like that, I want a divorce."

Carl looked over to see Lyra climbing up. He let out a few low chuckles along with Lyra.

"I didn't know we were married," Carl teased.

Lyra laughed. "Talk about time moving fast."

Carl leaned into Lyra who kissed him gently on the head. The teen leaned in and drew Lyra into a deep kiss, loving the taste of her as he trailed down her neck.

"Don't think your dad's too happy about us," Lyra said, her words came out more of a moan as Carl slipped his hand under her shirt.

"I love you," Carl moaned in reply, "Doesn't matter what my dad thinks."

The two fumbled for each other's belts and undid them before slipping each other out of their pants. Then they pulled each others shirt off. Carl leaned in and gently kissed the gouged scar on the right of her side making Lyra shudder.

"I...I fell into a trap," she told, "one of the spikes caught me."

Her fingers trailed up to Carl's bullet scar.

"Bullet passed through a deer right into me," the teen said.

The two rolled on the mattress as they gently play fought each other like pups. Lyra got the upper hand and held Carl down as she made a trail of kissed from Carl's neck to the bullet scar. She moved back up and Carl closed his eyelid feeling her press her lips ever so gently.

"I will...," Carl whispered.

Lyra captured his lips, kissing him deeply enjoying the blush in the teen's cheek rise.

"I..."

"Shh..."

The two intertwined in the sheets as they felt each move in rhythm with each other. The heat rose around them as the two lost track of time and thought.

XXXXXX

A couple days passed slowly. The efforts to find supplies were amped to the point where three parties were out at a time, sometimes they came across each other and teamed up. Sometimes they found supplies but other times they didn't which disheartened everyone knowing that the lack of supplies would effect their leader's attitude.

Everyone tried to keep working but every time someone passed the medic bay, they couldn't help try to peer through the curtained window into the room where Eugene was lain up. The truth got out that Negan forced Rick to beat Eugene and then break his hand. Very few Alexandrians were able to make bullets, and those who did weren't as skilled as the former teacher.

Inside the room, Tara was making the last few adjustments to Eugene's bandages. Her heart was stuck in her throat as she looked at the poor man on the bed. He had being out for a couple days, sometimes Abraham, Rosita and Sasha would come in to see how he was doing until they had to be pulled away. Once in a while Eugene would wake but it was clear he was still a bit out of it.

"...Tara...?"

Shocked, the young woman looked down to see the former teacher look at her with slightly dazed eyes. His voice was slightly thick over the swelling.

"Shh...," she said calmly trying to keep the man down. "You have a concussion, broken ribs and a broken hand. You mustn't move."

Memories slowly returned to Eugene and he felt tears prick his eyes. His bruised body reminded him of the pain and the image of Rosita's horrified expression reminded him of the humiliation.

"You..."

Tara gave him a weak broken smile, "...Denise she...taught me things..."

Eugene closed his eyes and reached out taking the young woman's hand in his.

"I'm sorry Tara."

She nodded and with the other hand wiped the tears away.

"Please Eugene...on a scale of one-to-ten, tell me your pain."

"Nine."

Tara nodded and went to the pill box.

"Here...," she said taking out a couple of aspirin.

There was a knock on the door.

"One second," Tara called as she helped Eugene take the medication. She walked over and opened the door, her face fell.

"Can I come in?" Rick asked cautiously.

"Eugene's up," she said deadpanned.

"Can I please come in?"

"It's alright Tara," Eugene called from the bed.

Slowly the young woman stepped out of the way and watched as the leader walked up to the bed. Over his shoulder was a bag that looked rather heavy. Rick stiffened as he drew closer to the bed seeing how wounded the man was, his eyes flicked to the casted hand and he felt the guilt build on his shoulders.

"I'm sorry," Rick whispered.

Eugene saw the heaviness weighing on the leader.

"The lesser of two evils," the former teacher said, "that's all you were choosing."

Rick could sense Tara's eyes on him.

"Can I speak to Eugene in private?"

The young woman made no motion of moving until Eugene spoke up.

"It's okay Tara, thank you."

Knowing that there was nothing more she could do, Tara walked out of the room slowly closing the door. The two waited for a few moments before Rick spoke.

"How's your hand?"

"Tara gave me medication to keep the pain at bay," Eugene said, "but I don't think that's why you're here."

Rick unslung the bag on his shoulder and laid it on the bed. The contents jingled slightly and Eugene knew what it was. Some of the bullets spilled over onto the bed as Rick folded down the sides.

"I heard what you said to Lyra," Eugene said. "You shouldn't have done that to her, she's already being in enough pain."

"I can't have my son come back to this," Rick admitted, anger pushed into his voice. " _He's_ already being in enough pain!"

A silence spilled over the two. It wasn't a topic that they were easily going to get around. Each wanted the two safe and sound, preferably in Alexandria but each favoured one or the other. However, in the end Rick was leader, someone that Eugene couldn't go up again.

"I needed her help and she agreed to help me," Rick said trying to keep his voice level. "She's a grown woman now Eugene, no longer your student."

The former teacher bristled at the words and decided to fire it back. "And Carl's growing into his own, you can't coddle him forever."

Rick's eyes widened at Eugene's uncharacteristic tone. His hands had balled into fists without his knowing.

"Rosita told me that you've being at it for a week non-stop."

Eugene didn't respond.

"Negan made me break your hand for a reason, he knows that you're the only one here who can craft bullets."

"He's trying to stop you from retaliating any further. Rick, I know it's hard but you have to do as he says. You try to fight him anymore, he will kill another of us."

"He has my boy," was all that Rick could reply. Eugene knew that no matter what he said, or what anyone said that the father would never give up trying to save him.

"Your son and Lyra only have one more double bullet cache. After that Negan can't hurt him anymore, he ca...We need to concentrate on finding supplies."

As he spoke Eugene wasn't sure how much of his words were getting through.

"Rick...no matter what it may seem like – Carl can't live without you."

All he could do was watch as Rick quietly picked up the bag. All the times Negan would playfully name Carl a killer, all the times he would gloat his son's achievements for the Sanctuary and the final threat of keeping Carl locked up forever. He walked back to the door and opened it.

"I'll fine a way."


	11. Chapter 11

Carl and Lyra woke at the same time. He closed his eyes as he felt Lyra's lips and fingers play gently across his skin. From his neck up to his messy hair.

"God you smell," she whispered teasingly into the teen's ear.

Carl snorted despite himself. "The last time you had a bath was...?"

"Shut up."

The two gave each other a kiss before grabbing their clothes. Neither were embarrassed to dress or undress in front of each other any more. The two had seen each other's secrets and had heard each other's fears.

Carl watched as Lyra did up the pant on her braced knee, tying it tight yet keeping the knot high and small so that it would get caught. Slowly the teen crawled over and helped tie the last one.

"Thanks," she muttered.

Carl watched as solemn Lyra always became when working on her knee. It was as the air had being sucked from the room and nothing existed except just that very moment.

 _Lyra's bloodied body hit the ground hard. A broken scream escaped from her throat as she clutched her knee. However pain started to bloom in other places too, ribs, back, head...soon everything pulsed with pain. Lyra wondered if it would ever stop._

" _Welcome home."_

 _Lyra looked up and glared at the man towering over her. His sick grin mocking her as she struggled to grip something to hoist herself up, but her fingers were so slick with blood that they just fell from the table._

 _Giving up on standing, Lyra looked around._

 _The room was rather large. Metal tables were dotted around the floor and old, broken machines were lined up against the wall. The place had a dirty scent to it, and an old must hung in the air making it hard for Lyra to breath at times._

" _Bastard...," she managed through clenched teeth as a wave of terrible pain gripped her._

" _You knew the rules Lyra," Negan merely said. "I gave you chances and you still disobeyed."_

" _My knee...!"_

" _Better than the iron," the leader interrupted, "just ask Dwight."_

 _The Saviour looked away as Lyra sent a dark glare at him._

" _However...that's not to say you won't get it in the future should you step out of line."_

 _The apprentice looked up in bewilderment._

" _You work fast, and your skills are admirable," Negan admitted. "I do hope that this will work."_

" _...son of a...," Lyra couldn't finish the insult as a pain gripped her._

" _Maybe use some of that damn energy to get better," Negan suggested. He motioned his men to leave. "I'm going to be generous and give you an entire fucking week to get back on your feet. After that, you fucking work. You pay back what you fucking owe me, making bullets and repair weapons just like it was back at the Sanctuary."_

" _Where the hell am I?" Lyra demanded._

 _Negan didn't reply just merely watched with a grin as tears poured down Lyra's face against her will. She hated that she was showing weakness to this man who seemed to be relishing in the fact. Lyra wanted to get up, to rise to her feet and beat him to a pulp._

" _You...you killed Kaz...," Lyra managed weakly through the sobs._

" _He knew the fucking consequences yet he still persisted, much like you are right now."_

" _...and Stacy...?"_

 _Negan shrugged. "That young lady knows what it takes to survive, shame that Kaz didn't...or you fucking don't."_

 _Lyra tried to speak but couldn't. All words and breathe were being sucked from her lungs making her gasp in pain as another ripple shook her body._

" _I'll tell Stacy you said hi."_

Lyra felt a small shudder run through her body as she forced the memory away. Something nudged her shoulder and she looked over to see Carl leaned against her, his typically hardened eyes softened just for her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's not your fault," Lyra answered, her voice low. She let out a small sigh.

"Come on," she said, "Dwight should be coming today with our rations."

Carl watched as Lyra climbed down the ladder. He knew that there was still pain in her expression. The teen climbed down the ladder and walked over to the workbench. He looked over to see Lyra splitting the remainder of their rations and grabbing some water.

"How much are we doing today?" Carl asked.

Lyra shrugged. "At least half of the first or so."

The teen nodded and walked over as Lyra set down the food. The two started to eat in silence, but Lyra knew that Carl was anxious. It was clear he was trying hard not to look at the door.

"You have to trust your dad Carl," Lyra said patiently.

The teen looked down at the remainder of his food. His appetite waning as questions prodded the teen. What if his father couldn't do it? What would happen then? Would Negan hurt someone in retaliation? Carl hoped not to all the antagonizing questions but that didn't stop from more.

Then something warm encased his face. It was gently and caring, making the nagging questions go away.

"Trust them," Lyra whispered, "trust me."

Carl felt his head nod as Lyra gently kissed him on the lips. He looked at her to see him a gentle look but there was something underneath it that Carl didn't understand.

"Lyra...," he whispered wanting to speak but the apprentice pulled away.

"I think we deserve a break," she said, "go up and check to see if Negan and his tagalongs are here yet. I'll clean up, it's alright."

"I can help."

"Take a rest, I'll be up in a bit."

Carl quietly left, still slightly conflicted whether he should stay or not. He wanted to speak, he wanted Lyra to join him. He watched her for a few moments before taking the slingshot and heading up to the second floor.

Up on the floor, Carl sat against the broken wall. He looked out into the forest to see birds take off from the trees. The moans coming from the walkers reminded him that he was trapped, but he wasn't concerned with them. A soft breeze washed over him as he leaned against the wall. Carl thought of his friends and family, wondering how they were doing - really doing. He wished he was there at their side, helping. He promised himself that he would help against Negan's forces, his new skills would make him an asset that his father couldn't refuse.

What felt like hours passed. Carl had risen and walked around to get the feeling back into his legs. He kept looking at the makeshift ladder wondering when Lyra would come up.

Having had enough waiting, Carl went down the ladder and into the shop. He was greeted to blood.

Immediately his instincts triggered as he rushed over to where Lyra was lain. Her skin pale and body motionless. Carl tried to speak but even breathing was hard for him and he didn't know what to do. Blood coated her chin and neck along with other bodily fluid and flecks. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her pulse was barely there.

"Carl..."

The teen was too in thought to register that someone spoke. Something gripped him tight and slammed him full on in the face. Startled, the teen bolted upright nearly headbutting Jordan in the nose.

"Fucking kid!" the Saviour growled.

"Carl, what happened to Lyra?"

The question made the teen's heart drop. He looked back down at the body of his lover, tears pricking his eye.

"Carl!" Dwight's voice shouted, bringing the teen back to earth. "What happened?"

"I...I don't..."

Dwight reached down and grabbed Lyra. He tried to get her to respond but received nothing.

"Radio Negan, take the boy with you."

Jordan struggled to get the teen under control but Carl whipped around and punched the Saviour in the face. The Saviour released him with a howl of pain clutching his broken nose. Dwight turned around in time to see Carl tackle him to the ground.

"Don't touch her!"

Dwight easily countered Carl's attack and punched him. Carl's head snapped back, and there was enough force to send the teen off to the side. Blood dripped out of Carl's nose and drooled from his mouth. A numb tongue ran across his teeth to his surprise and relief that none of them were broken or loose.

"Stupid kid."

Carl looked up in time to see a boot coming down on him.

XXXXXX

 _I'll figure it out._

Rick sat on the side of the bed motionless. His mind that was usually active in formulating plans was drawing blanks. Every time he thought about a plan it would be blocked by words from his group.

 _That's fucked up Rick._

 _Just do as he says._

As much as he hated to admit it, his own thoughts would be that block. He knew that he had to be very careful, Negan had already hurt Carl once who was not to say it wouldn't happen again? Rick clearly struggled.

Restless, Rick jumped to his feet and paced like a caged animal. He took out his pistol and check to see that it had all the bullets it in. Just as he slammed the chamber shut the door opened. Still hyperactive, Rick's arm flashed out and aimed the gun.

"Rick!" the swordswoman gasped, startled by her lover's actions.

Realizing what he had done, the leader lowered the gun onto the bed table and sat on the bed. Sensing the distress, Michonne sat beside Rick taking his shaking hand between her own steady ones. The heat and warmth from the hands steady's Rick's own. However the rest of his body still shook. Michonne pulled him into a light embrace feeling the trembles against her body.

The two remained. Quiet and motionless. Michonne felt something dampen her shirt and she realized that Rick was crying. She hugged tighter.

"Carl...," the father whispered, barely audible.

"...I know," Michonne responded gently.

Rick held tight, afraid that it he let go then Michonne would be gone too.

"He's my boy...and I can't..."

The swordswoman heard the pain and anger in his words.

When Rick had returned with Eugene and Abraham, he had told them what happened. The room was so vibrant with anger that Daryl had jumped up and ran to the garage with the intent of driving to the compound himself. Rick and Abraham managed to stop the hunter in time and rip the keys from his grasp.

"We will save him," Michonne said firmly.

Rick didn't respond. He remained close though, still afraid to let go. After a few beats, they released each other but remained close.

"Carl has...I think he has feelings for Lyra," Rick managed.

Michonne bowed her head, she knew that there was something between the teen and the apprentice but didn't know what. When she had tried to get Carl to open up more about it, she was shut down.

"He's growing Rick," Michonne reminded. "He will find his own, he needs to."

Rick closed his eyes. He knew that his son was growing and he wanted to be there for Carl especially the way the world is right now. Rick didn't want his son to be alone, to be lost and above all, to be vulnerable.

XXXXXX

Carl slowly woke. He found himself on a bed, a proper one not a cot. Something else that drew his attention was that his wrists were bound to the twin bed's posts. The teen gave a slight tug feeling the nylon taunt against his skin. He looked around to see the room was fairly plain, a bed side table and a chair. The curtains were drawn over the window but he could still hear the noises outside rise to meet his ears.

He then looked down at himself to see that he was still dressed in the bloodied clothes. His fist pulsed with pain where he had hit the Saviour and his nose ached where Dwight had punched him. He could feel the skin under his left eye tighten every time he blinked, knowing that it was possibly bruised.

The door opened and a woman walked in.

"Who are you?" the teen demanded angrily. He tried to straighten the best he could but it wasn't much. She poured water into a cup and held it out for him. Slowly the teen relaxed his muscles as the cup was brought to his lips and he drank a couple gulps.

"Where's Lyra?"

The woman didn't speak, instead just unsheathed a blade from her side and cut the ropes. Then a firm hand grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him off the bed. Carl struggled trying to pry the hand off but the woman was oddly strong. Her other hand grabbed one of his arms and twisted it up behind his back making the teen more controllable.

"Let me go!" he said continuing to struggle.

She opened the door and herded him through, down the hall and to an open room on the right.

Inside Dwight was seated on a chair. There was a mix between anger and confusion on his face, but it wiped as soon as he saw the teen and the woman walk in. He got up from the chair and grabbed Carl by the back of his shirt.

"Leave," he commanded to the woman.

She left wordless, closing the door behind her.

"Get off of me," Carl growled. He tried to kick Dwight but the Saviour dug his fingers into his neck and slammed him into the wall.

"What the fuck are you kids planning?!" he growled.

"Let me go!" Carl shouted back.

A pain gripped his scalp as Dwight grabbed a handful of his hair.

"What's the fuck is going on?"

"I don't know!"

Carl was whipped around to come face-to-face with the angered Saviour.

"Did she tell you she was going to overdose?"

Carl's mouth dropped slightly. Was that what happened? Why would she...? What...?

Dwight saw the confusion on the teen's face and let out a soft growl seeing that the teen was just as confused as he. He released Carl who immediately rubbed the back of his neck. Blood coming off on his fingers.

"Sorry," the Saviour said weakly, his tone less hostile.

"Fuck you," Carl snarled.

Dwight gave no sign of caring for the insult.

Carl looked past him and saw the steaming water in the tub. He looked over to see a towel and a pair of fresh clothes were on the ground.

"Strip."

Carl felt his heart stop as the breath clogged his throat. Unconsciously he stepped towards the door.

"Don't be an idiot kid," Dwight warned. "Stella was ordered to lock the door when she left, and I have the other key. Negan's orders are that you can't leave the bathroom until you're clean."

"I'm not cleaning."

Dwight sighed as he rose to his full height showing how easy it would be for him to take the boy down.

"Kid, either we do this the easy way or the hard. Trust me, the hard isn't going to be pretty."

Carl heard the growl in the Saviours tone and he knew that he would loose – again.

"Turn around," Carl said as he gripped the hem of his shirt showing he was going to take his clothes off.

"I hear the doorknob turn, I'll break your hand," Dwight warned as he turned the chair.

Carl quickly undressed and then went into the tub feeling the steam rise around him.

"...alright...," Carl said.

Dwight turned the chair back facing the door but gave a quick glance over to see the teen was indeed in the tub.

"Here." The Saviour handed over some soap and a scrub.

Carl started to wash his body feeling better and more rejuvenated. He did his body quick and watched as the water turned a murky grey.

"Don't forget to wash your hair," Dwight said.

Wordless Carl did so, rubbing soap into his hair and then going under for a few seconds to get the suds out. When he resurfaced he looked over to see Dwight picking his nails with a small switchblade. The Saviour looked over and Carl unconsciously drew his legs against his chest. Dwight rolled his eyes.

"How's Lyra?"

"She'll live," Dwight answered not looking at Carl. "Negan's livid but she'll live."

"She...was in pain," Carl said.

"Sure, because when you're in pain you down alcohol and pills to make it all go the fuck away."

Carl heard some waver in the Saviour's voice and he wasn't sure why. In fact, the Saviour really shouldn't care. None of the others did, so why was Dwight acting so different?

"How did she get the alcohol?" Carl asked.

"I don't know," Dwight answered. However Carl picked up on a guilty tone, he wasn't sure why Dwight would give Lyra alcohol.

"And the pills just fell from the sky right?"

A gleam of silver flashed across Carl's left eye as his head snapped back. He clutched his cheek where the knife had dug in. Carl looked over at Dwight who grabbed his hair and pulled him until he was a mere inch away form the Saviour.

"Think that you can shit on me huh?" the Saviour demanded, "think that watching _one_ friend die gives you that right?"

Without thinking, Carl threw himself at Dwight and punched the Saviour in the face. He continued to deliver the blows, one after another until Dwight grabbed his throat and tossed him off. Carl laid on the ground, his hand clutching his throat as he curled his body. Dwight rose to his feet and was about to shout when Carl spoke first.

"I had to put down my mom after my sister was born."

Dwight looked down at the teen. He just laid on the ground, vulnerable and clearly defeated. Without a word, the Saviour scooped him up and placed him back in the water. Carl felt the water rise around him but he didn't feel the warmth, the memory made him cold as usual as if whatever happiness he had in his life was sucked out in a second.

"Wash up," Dwight said, "and don't move."

Carl watched as the Saviour knelt and grabbed his dirty clothes. He unlocked the door and walked out of the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Carl looked back down at the greyish water. He closed his eyes and leaned back until his back was against the slanted wall, his head just resting against the wall. The hairs on his scalp still stung from where Dwight had grabbed him along with the scratches on the back of his neck.

"Lyra...," the teen tested in the empty room.

He hoped with all his heart that she was alright. Why would she do something so reckless? It was stupid of her to do something do dangerous, she could've died! Carl swallowed.

If Lyra died...If anything bad happened to her... Carl didn't want to think about it. He had lost too much already and he didn't want to loose Lyra. That didn't go to say, that he wished bad upon his friends and family. All they had being through together...but this situation – they weren't together. They were divided with no way of truly communicating with each other. It had being two weeks since his father, Eugene and Abraham had visited and they never came again.

The door opened again and Carl looked up to see Dwight coming in with a med-kit.

"You done?" the Saviour asked nodding to the tub.

Carl nodded and watched the Saviour turn away as the teen got out. The short fight flashed in Carl's mind and only then he realized that he was naked. He looked over at Dwight who's back was still turned and quickly grabbed a towel. Wiping himself dry, Carl quickly slipped on a pair of clean jeans, shirt and hoodie.

" 'kay," Carl indicated he was clothed.

He looked over to see Dwight take out a small tube from the kit and motioned him over.

"Stay still," the Saviour ordered as he spread the small blot of cream on the wound. Carl winced feeling the pain prick then numb the skin on his cheek. Dwight added a couple more blots to the scratches on his neck, which didn't sting so badly. He took some gauze and cut it into stripes before applying it.

The two were wordless as he applied gauze to the scratches. Dwight snapped the kit shut and then took out zip ties. Carl immediately bristled.

"Don't do anything stupid," Dwight warned.

"What's that for?"

"You'll be staying here for another night before heading back. Negan wants to make sure that you don't cause a problem."

"I won't," Carl argued.

"Can't say that I blame him for taking no chances," Dwight shot back, "hands."

Defeated, Carl held out his hands and Dwight lashed a tie around the wrists.

"Stay close," he sad letting the bound hands drop.

Carl didn't answer and looked over towards the door. Dwight grabbed his chin and forced him to look at him directly.

"Hey look at me kid! Sucks to be me, I'm your fucking babysitter. If you do anything that messes shit up, then it comes back onto me got it?"

"Why should I care? You shot Daryl!"

"He had it coming! And you should give shits because the next place I take you, 'otta loosen your tongue a bit."

Carl raised an eyebrow.

"Time to go check up on your girlfriend."


	12. Chapter 12

The Sanctuary was massive. It was a factory with high metal walls around it and barbed wire around the top. There were four guard towers positioned at the corners as well as guards along the wall itself. Below, people were milling about doing their usual. Going to and fro keeping busy but with an atmosphere of what seemed like an urgency.

Carl watched in amazement. He kept his face tight though not wanting to give Dwight the satisfaction, worse Negan.

"You can't hide it boy," his caretaker said, nudging the teen forward. "Negan'll see right through it, he'll pick up on it and know."

"He can go to hell," Carl muttered.

People below heard and it was evident that they held their breath, one woman even gave Carl an evil eye. He glared right back at her.

"He's Negan's special guest," Dwight said breaking the staring contest.

While it dispersed the people, it didn't disperse the new atmosphere that Carl had just set.

"Careful boy," Dwight cautioned as he lead the teen to the medic bay. "Keep that tongue in check or else."

Carl scowled but didn't say anything.

In the medic bay, Carl was seated where another wordless person attended to him. This time is was a young teen around his age that tended to his own minor wounds. A couple butterfly bandages were placed on the wounds on his face, his hand was wrapped where Jordan's teeth had cut into his skin. Dwight cut the ties on his wrists and lashed the left to a post to make it easier for the teen nurse. Once those wounds were wrapped, Dwight told the teen to wrap Carl's empty socket.

"Freaking me the fuck right out," the Saviour muttered watching the teen nurse cut a length of gauze. "Why didn't you re-wrap it?" Dwight asked Carl. "You know after Negan..."

Carl didn't looked at Dwight much as he wanted too.

"I didn't think it was important," Carl finally answered after a few beats. "It kept leaking and cracking anyway when the stitches were in."

"Irritation causes infection," the teenage nurse muttered low.

"What'd you say?" Dwight demanded rising from his chair. Carl saw the teen flinch and immediately went to his defence.

"He said nothing, and he's doing a lot more help than you fucking are!"

Dwight stepped forward wanting to smack the kid on the mouth when a door opened. A middle-aged woman came through and walked up to Dwight ignoring Carl completely.

"Lyra's up, but still slightly dazed. Not sure how much you want out of her."

The Saviour shook his head. "Not for me, for him."

The doctor looked over at Carl who still had an aggressive expression on his face. She turned to the teen and said, "when you finish up, start re-filling the containers."

"Yes ma'am," the teen said. His voice was clear for all to hear. The teen taped down the gauze on Carl's head and then left.

Dwight came up and undid the tie before doing up Carl's wrists again.

"I'm going to be there," the Saviour said, "don't say or do anything stupid."

Carl scowled as Dwight pushed him towards the door.

She overdosed...Carl's mind replayed. The teen swallowed unsure of what to say to Lyra, why would she do something like that? He wanted to ask her all sorts of questions and would demand answers in return but knew that some information would have to be told between the two of them alone.

"As for the alcohol and pills," Dwight said suddenly, "I gave them to her to help her stave off blood infections."

"But-."

"Alcohol kills bacteria boy," Dwight said, "you should know that by now."

Carl's ears went bright red as he remembered some hints and tips Hershel would drop to him. They would be, how to wrap gauze, apply bandages without twisting up the ends and how to clean a wound.

"I know that."

"So all your dumb questions are finished?"

"Why did you help her?" Carl shot back.

Dwight opened his mouth ready to speak, but then closed it. Carl hoped he would speak up again however felt himself being pushed through the doorway.

Inside it smelt of bleach and antiseptic. There was one other person in the room but they were sleeping. At the end of the room was Lyra, however she was curtained off from the others like a quarantine patient. However Carl saw her shadow and knew no doubt.

"Lyra," he whispered as he pulled back the drapes.

She looked up at him, giving him a sad smile. Carl's heart shot into the ground and he was sure he would never get it back.

"Ho...How are you?" Carl asked, his voice low.

"Better," Lyra answered.

Carl looked behind to see Dwight leaned up against one of the bed cots. He turned back to Lyra who beckoned him closer.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, "you'll understand once we get back to the factory."

Carl was about to ask when something grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him off.

"Last chance," the Saviour warned making Carl stand near the foot of the cot.

The teen felt like jumping at Dwight, but knew that it wouldn't solve anything. In fact it may end up making things much worse.

"What did you do?" Carl asked, trying to keep his voice as low as possible but it was hard.

Lyra let out a small sigh. "I mixed some pills, alcohol and drank it. Thought you'd know the term overdose Carl."

"I know what overdose means, I want to know why though."

Lyra gave him a small cryptic smile that lasted a second. Then her expression went blank as she leaned back against the pillows.

"Sorry kid, but that would be telling."

For some reason Carl wanted to burst out laughing. Whatever Lyra was planning, she clearly had Negan and the Saviours going around in circles on the outside. After everything that happened, Carl loved it. He bit his tongue hard to make sure that didn't happen. He looked over at Dwight who was watching the pair closely.

"Seems like we'll be running behind," Carl said, his voice slightly down.

Lyra's eyes flicked downward before looking at Carl. It felt like the temperature in the room dropped a couple degrees.

"I'm sorry Carl, but your dad didn't give Negan the supplies."

Carl felt his jaw drop, he looked back at Dwight watching a ghost of contempt pass his face before nodding. The teen looked back at Lyra who gave him a sorrowful look. Unable to believe that his father would fail, Carl shook his head.

"No...," the teen whispered, "he wouldn't, he's not like that."

"Toughen up kid," Dwight scorned before Lyra could speak. "Your father fucking failed."

Carl whipped around. "You don't know him!" He turned back to Lyra. "Dad would never do that, you know it Lyra. He nev-."

Suddenly Carl stopped. The image of Glenn's mangled corpse came into mind and all the breathe escaped from the poor teen. His hands gripped the bedside tight. Then he felt something warm against his cheek. He looked over to see Lyra sitting upright, she had scooted down the bed to his side. Her hand gently on his cheek. Carl knew that Dwight's eyes were on them – closely. He knew there would be questions later.

"Breathe," Lyra whispered.

She felt Carl shake under her touch but he took in a breath and let it out. His eye flicked up to Lyra whose own eyes were softened as if she were looking at a wonder, or beautiful painting.

"I'll save you," she whispered lowly.

His eye widened wondering what she was planning. Carl didn't want Lyra to get hurt anymore, and since they were in the Sanctuary, they were outnumbered indefinitely. He knew that one false move and Negan would not hesitate to hurt or kill either in a second.

"Time's up."

Carl felt a hand pulled him back and his eye took on it's usual hardness as he glared at Dwight. Lyra moved back to her usual place on the cot.

"I'll see you later," she called.

XXXXXX

Everything hurt. Eugene thought that painkillers were supposed to ease the pain, however it seemed to make it ten times worse. Every move hurt, every breath and even lying still stung. Eugene knew that Rick had a mean hit but never expected anything like this. When Abraham had beaten him it felt like he had being rolled over by a car, this felt like it was a train, a really long one.

Then again Abraham had only hit him three times before Rosita came to his defence. This time there was no one. He was defenceless and at the mercy of a very angry man who will stop at nothing to find his son.

Tara tried her best to ease his pain, but nothing helped. Eugene however was good at feigning relief after a few moments he had taken painkillers. He didn't want to discourage the poor woman, she had just lost her girlfriend and was trying to figure everything out herself. But she wasn't a medic like Denise.

There was a knock on the door and it opened to reveal Rosita. Eugene straightened the best he could despite his wounds, but the young woman shook her head not wanting him to damage himself further.

"How are you doing?" she asked.

"Managing," he responded. "And you?"

"I'm doing fine."

"I...just wanted to thank you."

Eugene blinked. "For what?"

"For saving me...I...honestly never thought that you'd-."

"Of course I would."

The answer came out a lot faster than either expected. Eugene gave a nervous swallow as Rosita looked at him with a slight quizzical look.

"I...just mean that I'd never let a man like that hurt you. Or...anyone who would..."

The words started to jumble in the former teacher's mind, so he decided to stop talking. He looked over at Rosita taking a seat.

"Rick is still talking about saving his son despite Negan's warnings," Rosita informed.

Eugene nodded thoughtfully. "Next time it won't be just a beating, it'll be a death."

The young woman felt an involuntary shudder run through her. She briefly looked out the window and then back to the bed.

"He sending people out in guise as supply runs, but he's sent a couple over by the factory. He wants people to try and find a safer way in and out."

"There is no safe way in and out," Eugene said, "the only way we got in was using pieces of sheet metal as shields. Still it was bloody."

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

Eugene looked at her. "What do you mean?"  
The young woman gave him a wry look. "I've known you for almost a year now, I know that look Eugene. You can't pull one over me anymore."

The former teacher bit the inside of his lip. Rosita was right. He was thinking of doing something for Lyra, but he didn't know what.

"I'm not sure what I'm going to do," Eugene said honestly. "I want to help Lyra...but I don't know... I can't do what Rick wants to do for Carl. You know that."

"What about asking Abraham?"

He turned away momentarily. Like Rosita, the ex-sergeant had become skeptical when he spoke, and Eugene knew he couldn't blame either. However he knew that Abraham would never go with his plan.

"He won't do it," Eugene said, "if anything he'll just tell Rick."

"You don't know that," Rosita chastised.

"Why are you still defending him? He broke up with you."

Rosita's face paled slightly and it took everything not to hurl the nearest heavy object at Eugene's head. After a few seconds, Eugene realized what he had just said and immediately regretted it. The young woman had come all this way for him and he shot out the worse thing possible.

"I'm sorry," Eugene muttered.

"I came by to tell you what Rick was planning out of courtesy," Rosita said tightly getting up. "Guess I won't make that mistake ag-."

"No please!" Eugene swallowed as the young Latino looked back shooting him a well deserved dark glare. "I'm sorry...really. I don't know what got into me," he admitted.

Rosita didn't sit but didn't leave which Eugene took as a good sign.

"Thank you for letting me know," Eugene said in attempts to clear the air. "I do appreciate it."

Still stinging from the insult, Rosita merely responded, "you can't do your plan alone Eugene. It's always good to have a friend."

XXXXXX

Carl and Dwight were having lunch. However lunch for Carl was put lightly. He was given a grilled sandwich which seemed purposely burnt and water that was a bit murky. They were sitting inside with the other residents of the Sanctuary but they were secluded to a corner. Carl watched as people silently received their fill. There was small chatter around the place and a buzz of the same urgency around.

"You gonna eat kid," Dwight asked.

The teen had taken only two bites of his lunch before deciding he wasn't hungry.

"I don't want it," Carl grumbled.

"Bitching isn't going to make your father work faster."

Carl's fists unconsciously clenched as he gave the Saviour a glare. Others around them, sensed the teen's aggression and prepared to defend Dwight. However the Saviour raised his hand slightly dispersing the Saviours around them.

"Don't make this harder than it already is kid," Dwight warned. "I wasn't kiddin' when I said Negan is livid. He wants to talk to you once your finished eating."

"I'm not hungry," Carl countered bitterly.

"Tough shit, eat."

Hating himself, the teen grabbed the remainder of his lunch and took a tentative bite. The burnt aftertaste lingering in his mouth with each swallow.

"He's gonna quiz you on what happened and why you didn't do anything."

Carl didn't answer, honestly he didn't even know why Dwight was going out of his way to tell him this.

"So don't fuck up," the Saviour said, "and be honest."

"Why do you care?" Carl demanded.

Dwight didn't respond.

"You tell me and Lyra off, call us names and shit. But when shit goes down all of a sudden you're warning me about Negan and keeping Lyra from dying of blood poisoning."

"Mind your own fuckin' business boy," Dwight scowled, however the expression didn't reach his eyes. Instead there was what seemed like guilt beneath it all. Carl tucked that information away for a later date.

The two finished their lunch in silence. Once done, Dwight and Carl watched as the others left to go back to their chores. For whatever reason, it seemed that Negan wanted Carl to observe his people. It confused the teen, but he remained silent. Once the last few people left, Dwight grabbed Carl by the collar and hauled him to his feet. He led the teen up the stairs and down a long catwalk before going through a door that led to a different hallway.

"You're smart enough to know, your father is in deep shit with Negan already," Dwight said, "so don't piss him off anymore."

"Don't tell me what to do," Carl snapped. He gritted his teeth feeling the Saviour's fingers dig into his neck. He could feel the wounds on the back of his neck break open again.

"That's what I'm fuckin' talkin' about, be smart about this Carl."

The teen was about to argue back when he realized that, that was one of the very rare times Dwight had actually spoken his name. Not just 'kid' or 'boy', his actual name.

Carl remained silent as he was forced to stop in front of a door. Dwight reached out and gave it three strong knocks. The two waited for a bit and when the door opened, Carl's jaw unconsciously dropped.

Before him was a young woman with wood brown hair braided over one shoulder. Her heterochromia eyes looked from one to the other.

"Negan's expecting him," Dwight said indicating to Carl. "Take the boy."

The young woman pulled the door opened a bit more. Her body was revealing with only a bra, panties and thigh-straps on. Carl knew about this from Lyra but never expected to see it physically. He felt like he was going to be sick.

"You're not coming?" Carl asked looking back at Dwight.

"Not allowed," he managed, however his voice was slightly wavered.

Now it started to make sense to Carl why the man was telling him all these pre-cautions and warning him to be on his best behaviour.

Must be because of Sherry, Carl thought.

He walked into the room with the young woman. He looked up to see her giving him a curious side glance.

"Are you Stacy?" Carl asked straight out.

The young woman didn't reply but her widened eyes told the truth. The expression lasted only a second but it was all Carl needed.

"I'm sorry about Kaz."

A small shudder ran through Stacy but she just gave a small nod. Before the two turned into the open area, Stacy took something out of her bra and passed it to Carl. Quickly without questioning, Carl took the slip and stuffed it in his pants.

"Carl!"

The teen looked over at Negan who was sitting on the couch, two women on either side.

"Good to see you all fixed up. With the amount of blood on you when you came in, I thought you died." The sadistic leader rose to his feet and walked over. "Ya gotta stop scaring me like that boy, gonna give your old man a heart attack one of these days."

Carl tensed when Negan mentioned his father.

"Thank you Stacy," the leader said kissing the young woman possessively on the neck. Trailing slowly up to her lips, which Stacy complied. Carl looked away.

"You know that Stacy and Lyra arrived here together?" Negan asked, "along with Kaz, but...that's another story for later."

Carl kept his mouth shut, not wanting to reveal he already knew the story – all of it.

"Let's have a private chat," Negan said, "come with me."

Unable to do anything, Carl followed Negan into his quarters.


	13. Chapter 13

Inside the room, Negan invited Carl to sit at the small card table set in the corner of the room. The teen looked around to see a large bed up against the wall with lamps on either side and a cluttered bedside table. Leaned up against the card table was Lucille.

"I don't like to scare the others," Negan said, "I know she can come off as a bit...intimidating."

Carl felt the air clog his throat remembering the first time the weapon was pointed at him. Intimidating was a kind word.

The two sat. Carl looked straight at Negan showing his fearlessness and the leader couldn't help but give a slight smile. He walked over to a closed cabinet and opened it to reveal a couple bottles of alcohol. Carl swallowed feeling his throat tighten, remembering Lyra's painful overdose. He watched as Negan choose one that was a quarter from the bottom and took two quart glasses.

"One person's bad experience, shouldn't ruin ours right?" Negan asked joshingly as he poured.

Carl's expressionless face remained as he watched a glass being pushed towards him.

"That's one hell of a poker face kid, I gotta admit," Negan commented as he sat. "However I need to talk to you about something a bit more serious than card games."

"My dad didn't give you the double supply cache," Carl responded deadpanned.

The leader stroked his stubble thoughtfully. "Dwight took you to see Lyra."

Carl didn't respond. Silently the sadistic leader nodded.

"Thought so...honestly I wanted you to see her later but now that you know, I can't lie."

"My dad will get it," Carl said.

"Oh I know he fucking will. If that prick ever wants to see your face again, he _sure as fuck will._ I have to be honest with you kid, I didn't like how your daddy made me waste all that gas."

Carl visibly bristled not caring if Negan saw. "What did you do?"

"Be happy boy, your daddy's not hurt."

Deep down Carl was glad, but he knew that Negan would not leave without sending some sort of message.

"What did you do?" the teen demanded.

Negan just gave the teen a smirk, enjoying the teen twist himself over a weakling like Eugene.

"Hopefully your daddy will be able to fill you in later." Negan's smirk disappeared replaced with something close to irritation. "I want to talk about Lyra."

Carl felt his stomach knot, "she overdosed."

"Where the fuck were you?"

The teen froze. He knew that no one in the Sanctuary, Negan especially, could find out about him and Lyra. It was why she had taken on her previous brash attitude towards him when they talked. To keep the story up, to keep them going around in circles.

"I was taking a piss," Carl responded.

Negan nodded thoughtfully as he twirled Lucille up onto his shoulder nearly catching Carl in the face. The teen managed to keep a straight face.

"So you just allowed her to go about trying to kill herself?" The way Negan said it, the two may as well have being having a conversation on how each other their day was going.

"I didn't know she was going to do that."

"I find that a bit hard to believe."

Carl's eye narrowed. "Why?"

"You would've had to have pissed for a fucking long time."

"You took me to make you bullets, not babysit."

Negan grinned, "very true boy. However I can't help but think who's telling the truth and who's fucking with me."

Carl felt his heart drop but his expression remained. "No one's fucking with you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The room was eerily quiet. Carl held his stare at Negan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Casually, the leader withdrew his knife from his pocket and Carl felt the air bottle up in his throat. The blade flicked open with a smart _snap._ The staring contest continued to ensue as Carl refused to show any weakness in front of this man.

Negan then casually reached across the table with the tip of the knife pointed at Carl's gauzed eye. Unconsciously, the teen fell back out of his chair and onto the ground. His heart raced in his chest as his breath escaped in short huffs, he could hear the blood pump through his ears deafening him. Negan started to huskily laugh.

Carl glared at him as he started to get off the ground, listening to the sadistic leader's laughter turn to chuckles. However the atmosphere was different. Both knew that Carl couldn't regain his previous stance, no matter how hard he tried. The mask was broken, no point in picking up the pieces.

"Sorry...didn't mean to scare you, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Carl glared.

Negan gave him a small smile, the same kind an adult would give a child when catching them doing something mischevious.

"I see that you and Dwight are getting along," he said pointing the knife at the butterfly bandage under Carl's remaining eye.

The teen silently scowled, still not understanding why he had to be stuck with the Saviour but kept his mouth shut. Negan however wouldn't have it and pointed Lucille at Carl, the teen felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. For a split second he was back in line, watching thick trails of blood drip off the bat. Blinking hard, Carl let out a breath: "Yeah, best fucking friends."

Negan smiled, "good to hear."

There was another small pause, each gauging each other. Carl wasn't going to talk, he wanted nothing from the psycho.

"So Carl," Negan said digging the tip of the knife into the table. "You must do something other than make bullets."

"Sleep and eat."

The leader raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"

"We've given you two double cache bullets," Carl reminded cooly.

"And your father has only given me one double supply cache, seems like he needs to take on a bit more of your work ethic huh?"

Carl felt a lump grow in his throat. He scowled, to mask the deep contempt that he had for this monster.

"Are we done?" the teen demanded eyeing Negan closely.

At this moment Carl wasn't sure what Negan was planning. He had being pushing the teen around and around in circles, always asking the same damn question. Carl knew that he wasn't going to let anything up, neither wa- _thud_.

Carl watched as the slingshot was dropped onto the table. He kept his eyes on the weapon for a bit, he opened his mouth ready to speak. Suddenly the knife shot downward, and pierced through his right hand, pinning it to the table.

" _Argh!_ " Carl screamed. He groaned loudly gripping his wrist. Every instinct in his mind told him to pull back, but he knew better. Carl knew that remaining was his only option to reduce the permanent damage. He gave a strangled cry again as he felt another shot of pain quake his body.

"Are you sure you two were just making bullets?"

The teen didn't answer, he refused. Negan wouldn't have it though. He grabbed a handful of Carl's hair, forcing Carl to look at him causing the pain to stack, like a pile of bricks.

"Y-yes...," Carl managed through groans.

"So why the fuck do you two shits have a fucking slingshot?"

"...p-protection..."

"Against what? The fucking walkers? You think that those shits can open doors now?!"

Carl went to speak when a paroxysmal spasm rippled through his entire right arm. It made the muscles around the knife contract making it seem that the knife was being pushed in deeper. He watched the blood continued to pool out of the wound, one trail going over the edge of the table.

Negan raised his hand and gently placed his palm on top of the handle. Carl tried to glare at the man but faltered as the pain continued to crash against him like rough winds during a storm. Tears pricked his eye, Carl summoned everything he had not to cry but failed. He could feel the man's eyes on him, watching as the cracked mask deepened and widened. Carl's right hand twitched sending more pain, causing more tears and cries to expel.

"Anything else you want to say?" Negan asked patiently. "You'd be surprised to know how good of a listener I am."

The teen gritted his teeth as another pain shot through his body. He glared at Negan who didn't react in anyway, instead just watched the teen for a couple more moments.

Wordless, he got up from the table and walked over to the night table. Carl looked over to see him open the small drawer and took his time picking out some strips of cloth. A part of the teen wanted to shout at him to hurry up, the other part wanted Negan to go fuck himself and pull the knife out himself. Carl heard a low growl escape from his throat as he gingerly touched the handle. Immediately he regretted it and allowed his left hand to clench the edge of the table.

Finally the sadistic leader returned to the table. Taking his time, he sat down and looked at Carl. He wrapped a cloth around the blade making sure it was balled good and snug. The cloth started to mop up a lot of blood already.

"Ready?" Negan asked.

Carl just glared at him; Negan took it as a yes. A flash of silver shone in Carl's eye as the blade was pulled upward causing him to give another cry of pain. Negan immediately covered the gaping wound as blood poured out.

"Hold that," he ordered.

Hating himself, Carl did as he was told knowing that he didn't want to bleed out. Negan forced the hand to turn over and placed another pad of cloth on the other side. He then took the longest strip of cloth and wrapped it thrice around the hand.

"I'm sorry for that," Negan apologized as he bandaged the wound. "However you must understand the lengths I must go to, in order to ensure co-operation." He looked at Carl again who remained silent despite the tears that rolled down his face. Negan reached over and wiped them away.

"But you did lie to me, and that I can't have. You understand right?"

Carl didn't answer. His hand was still entrapped between's Negan's feeling the heat making his wound itch and sting. He wanted to wrench his hand right out but knew that like a trap, the man would catch it, causing more pain.

"You understand right?" this time the tone ensured that Carl would answer.

Feeling disgusted with himself Carl let out a low groan as he muttered, "yeah."

Satisfied (knowing that was all he was going to get), Negan leaned back into the chair and grabbed the quart glass. He took a large swallow before setting it down. Carl saw bloody imprints on the glass knowing that was his blood. He looked down at his bandaged hand feeling it still shake, in fact his whole body quaked with shock.

"Don't tell me your going to waste it."

Carl snapped his head up glaring at Negan, who scooped his glass off the table. Carl looked at his own feeling his stomach turn as he smelt the alcohol.

 _Click!_

The teen felt himself involuntarily shrink slightly as Negan made a show of examining the bloodied knife as if checking for damage. Not wanting anymore pain, Carl took the glass off the table and felt Negan's eyes on him as he brought it to his lips. Carefully the teen took a small drink and felt himself cough as the burning rum rushed down his throat. Negan let out another throaty chuckle.

"'atta boy," he declared taking another big gulp himself. "And you didn't even cough like a fucking pussy! You ever drink before?"

Carl set the glass down. He had drunk, but that seemed like ages ago. When his mother was still alive, when they were still back in Atlanta, when everyone seemed happy and at ease for the first in a long time. Now...now...

"No," Carl replied bluntly.

"Ya sure?" Negan asked.

"Yeah."

The two sat in silence for a bit longer. However the tensioned atmosphere they had begun with had vanished, now it was more of a one-sided battle, if it could still be called that.

"Since you truly don't have anything else you say, I suppose that I don't need you anymore," Negan concluded after re-pouring his glass. "Tell Dwight to take you down to the infirmary to get that fixed."

Carl was about to get up when Negan stopped with with a small whistle.

"Finish your drink before you go boy, I hate being a terrible host."

Carl didn't want to. If anything he wanted to pour it on his wound, alcohol killed bacteria after all. But silently Carl picked up the glass and drank a small swallow. The burn was stronger this time and it took everything for Carl not to cough. Seeing as he had one more gulp, he drank it silently feeling his head already spin.

"You alright boy?" Negan grinned watching as Carl slammed the glass down on the table hard.

Silently, Carl nodded. He carefully stepped forward and walked slowly until he was confident enough to walk normally. He opened the door and walked through.

In the large lounge area, all of Negan's wives looked over to see the teen stagger out slightly. Each wanted to go help the poor teen. They had heard the screams and the taunting laughter each had grown accustomed to. All eyes landed on the cruelly wrapped hand and had an idea of what Negan had done to the poor boy. However neither moved, not even Stacy. Each knew what would happen if they so much raised a finger to help him or anyone they weren't supposed to.

They watched as Carl slowly staggered to the door. He raised his left hand weakly and grabbed the doorknob. Trying to push it down, he failed over and over. Carl felt the tips of his ears go red knowing that the women were watching his pathetic attempts to open a door – a fucking door! He could practically hear Negan's husky laughter now. Carl looked around and the women took a sudden interest in the floor, windows or curtain – all except one.

Stacy got up slowly and walked over to Carl. Like Carl, she too felt the others' eyes on her back. However she shrugged them off. This boy knew Lyra, was helping Lyra and clearly cared for her. If Lyra was able to tell this kid the whole story, then he was trust-worthy enough in her eyes – he was more than just a mere messenger boy. And Stacy had learnt not to trust easily the hard way.

Wordless she gripped the handle and pushed downward. The door released with a small _click,_ causing Carl to instinctively flinch even though it was a door. But it had the same sound to the knife, the same staccato snap before being plunged straight through the teen's hand.

"...thanks," Carl said lowly to Stacy. She just nodded not saying a word before heading back to her spot on the large colourful cushion.

Carl pushed the door open. He looked up to see Dwight standing outside the hall. The Saviour looked up at the teen and immediately Carl knew something was up. The teen took a few tentative steps forward and was ready to speak when Carl saw it.

The Saviour's usual dark stare was tinted with something else, something lighter – like sympathy. Dwight knew. He fucking knew. Carl wondered how the man knew, then he answered his own question in seconds. Through the wall. The pain was so unbearable, and Carl had screamed so loud – that it had echoed all the way out into the hallway.

Carl felt like he was going to be sick.

Dwight pushed himself off the wall. Carl opened his mouth ready to speak when a small huff of breath came out.

"What?" Dwight asked. "Car-." He sniffed, "is that alcohol?"

"In...infi...," Carl felt pain grip him internally again making him sway on the spot like a drunkard. Suddenly he face-planted on the ground.

XXXXXX

A sea of darkness swam around Carl. Darkness and silence, he couldn't even hear his own breath. Carl wanted to remain, he wanted to gather his strength here. It would take a while but he didn't care, so long as he would get stronger and be able to face Negan for the next time.

First it was his eye socket and now his hand. That was the second time Negan had gotten to him, found his weakness and twisted – painfully.

Carl tried to think of ways to pick up the pieces, to do anything to regain what he had lost but he wasn't sure how. Dwight was right, Negan would see through it and attack. He would deflect the teen's attempts and with just a mere gesture, cause Carl's mask to crack. And he would do it in the same manner one would flicking a pesky fly.

 _Lyra...help..._ Carl closed his eye. He hated that he had to rely on others, he wanted to be strong and independent. Carl thought he was, he'd do anything for his family and friends to make their lives easier. He'd take any bait, hit or shot to make sure that no one else is injured – to save others from pain. But now he was in pain, now he was taking the hits, bait _and_ shots. _Dad...help me...please..._

Carl's eye slowly opened. It took a few moments, but he came to his senses and saw that he was back in the spare room where he had waken at first. He tried to get up but felt something against his wrists. Carl looked over from one hand to the other and saw that rope was wrapped around his wrists like before tying him to the bed. He noticed his right hand was bound professionally and he wondered if the teen nurse had done it.

"You are fucking lucky."

Carl became alert at the familiar voice. He looked over at Jordan who was leaned up against the far wall. The teen glaring daggers at the Saviour.

"Had it've being me, I'd take your fucking fingers."

"Go fuck yourself," Carl growled darkly.

"I'd take that tongue too, seeing as you like to fucking talk when you're not supposed too."

Carl continued to glare at the man.

"You think you're the shit huh?" the teen said bravely, straightening the best he could. "Well, I'm not afraid of your empty threats."

Jordan's hand lain on his largest hunting knife, gripping it tightly until his knuckles turned white. However Carl knew that the Saviour wouldn't withdraw it. Negan had clearly given special orders to all Saviours to not hurt the teen in anyway, and the others – his people – to not communicate with the teen in anyway. From Jordan's current actions, that also went for maiming.

"Just because you can say whatever you fucking want now, doesn't mean I won't forget it later _boy_ ," Jordan warned taking his hand off the hilt. "Soon there ain't gonna be anyone around to protect your skinny ass."

Carl didn't answer knowing that Jordan wasn't worth it. It wasn't Carl's fault that Jordan's brother died. Besides the teen was defending himself, he had every right to kill the man when he tried to kidnap him right from under everyone's nose.

"Jordan," a new voice joined.

The two looked over to see Dwight standing in the doorway. He had a tray of food with him.

"Take your supper then get your ass up on the West tower," Dwight ordered. His tone made it clear that the Saviour shouldn't argue. Silently, Jordan cast a final dark glare Carl's way before heading out.

"Fucking shithead," Dwight said as soon as the door slammed shut behind him. Dwight walked over to Carl. He set the tray down on the table before taking out his own knife and he noticed Carl involuntarily flinch.

"I'm not gonna hurt ya kid."

"I know that," Carl argued.

Dwight just shook his head not wanting to get into it. He cut the ties on Carl's left wrist and then balanced the tray on Carl's legs.

"Figured you'd want to use your left hand."

Carl blinked at such kindness coming from a Saviour. He looked down at the plate to see mashed potatoes and what looked like bone-dry meat and slightly overcooked vegetables.

"Eat up," Dwight said taking a seat.

 _Click! Click! Click!_

Carl looked over to see Dwight lighting up a smoke. He watched as the Saviour took in a long drag, holding it in for a couple seconds before blowing it out. The white smoke curled around the two.

"What?" Dwight demanded as the teen watched him.

"Can I have a drag?"

The Saviour raised an eyebrow, not expecting that from the teen. However giving a small shrug, he passed over the burning cigarette and watched Carl taking in a bit smaller drag than he. Carl held it in longer though before blowing it out.

"Good boy," Dwight said, reaching over and swiping back his cigarette, "a fucking gold star. Now eat up."

"Hey!" Carl protested.

Dwight snapped his fingers at the full plate of food in front of Carl. "Fucking eat all that shit and you'll get one to yourself. But I don't wanna see a bite left."

Mumbling inaudibly, Carl dug in. He wasn't hungry but knew that there was no way he could continue to protest.

"I don't see why you should give a shit," Carl grumbled as he took a bite.

"I don't," Dwight said honestly, "but Negan does."

"And what he says, goes, right?" Carl mocked. As soon as he finished the sentence, a hand slapped him upside the head making him see stars temporarily.

"Fuck!" Carl cursed dropping the plastic spoon. He cast a dark glare to Dwight who was more than ready.

"Another word out of ya, and I'll pass the short straw over to Jordan."

Awkwardly, Carl gave the Saviour the middle finger with his right hand. Sure it had hurt the teen but he felt it was well worth the pain. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Dwight pointed angrily at the tray again.

Despite the insults, Carl did start eating again. His teeth grit across the rough texture of the meat, and he wondered whether Negan had the kitchen make his meat over dry on purpose. Perhaps...Carl wouldn't be able to say that Negan hadn't fed him during his stay because he wasn't immaculate. However Negan clearly didn't want the teen to get too comfortable in the Sanctuary.

Sanctuary...Carl hated that word with the passion now. Every time he heard it, he couldn't help but cringe in disgust. First Terminus pretending to be a sanctuary and now the Sanctuary pretending to be a sanctuary – it was fucking ridiculous.

It took a while, but Carl finally finished, even Dwight gave a dramatic 'fucking finally!' before taking the plate. The teen watched him set it down on the table.

"So what the fuck happened with Negan?" Dwight demanded, beginning his own interrogation. Carl ignored him and turned away not wanting to answer the Saviour's questions. Suddenly Dwight reached over and grabbed Carl's injured right hand.

"Argh!" Carl cried as he tried to pull away but his right hand was still bound tightly to the post. He pulled and pulled before realizing how useless the motion was. However it was instinct, the teen couldn't help it. Once the final paroxysmal escaped his body, Carl glared hard at Dwight.

"What the fuck happened?" Dwight demanded again.

"Nothing, I told the truth and the fucker stabbed me in the hand," Carl shot back.

"You and Lyra make bullets," Dwight said.

"Yes!"

"Just do that, fucking twenty-four/seven."

Carl glared at him. "We do sleep asshat, but we just make bullets that's it."

"So why the fuck do you kids have a slingshot?"

Carl scowled, "none of your damn business."

Dwight stood and up grabbed Carl's wrist hard. The teen clenched his teeth as pain rushed through his body, it was so much that his limb started to go numb.

"This is why it's my fucking business," Dwight argued. "Because you and Lyra decide to do fuck all and lay about shooting god knows what and for fuck knows how long!"

"'Laying about?' I already gave you guys two _double_ cache bullets."

"So when did you and Lyra start fucking?"

The temperature in the room dropped. Carl's eye widened for a split second but it was long enough for Dwight to catch one.

"That's what I thought," he muttered releasing the teen's wrist. He sat heavily in the chair.

Carl didn't respond. He just sat there in contemplation and wonder. Sometimes Dwight would speak to the two as if they were a couple in a teasing manner, but Carl never expected it to hear that Dwight was speaking to the truth. That he actually knew.

"She seemed...different," Dwight admitted. "Lighter, even happier, which was unexpected. Lyra was good at hiding it, but I saw it."

"Why do you care?" Carl asked, his voice not as loud and he kept his tone open.

"You saw my wife in Negan's lounge," the Saviour explained, "she was mine, but Negan wanted her as well. Shit went in all directions and it got hard for us to appeal to Negan to let us stay, so he made us a deal. Said that our lives would be easier, for both of us, all Sherry had to do was become one of his wives. She took the offer."

Carl recalled Lyra's story, how Stacy had taken the offer as well to save not only Kaz's life but also the apprentice's.

"Is that why you help Lyra?" Carl asked starting to catch on. "Because you feel sorry for her.'

Dwight scowled. "Don't look into it too much boy."

The teen didn't speak. However he continued to think on it, he wondered why Dwight would want to go that far for Lyra. Sure he had felt sorry, but when they moved her to the factory, she shouldn't have being Dwight's problem anymore.

"Hey kid." Carl looked over to see Dwight handing him a full cigarette. The teen took it and placed it in his mouth. The Saviour reached over with the lighter and lit it as Carl sucked the end. Letting out a small breath Carl looked over.

"...thanks..."


	14. Chapter 14

The next day, Carl were dubbed fit to travel. It was early morning when Carl was woken by a different woman this time. She, like the rest of the community, was wordless towards him and placed a meagre meal of stale cereal and bread on Carl's lap. With a small penknife, she sliced through the bonds on his left wrist. He watched her take a seat on the chair and remaining motionless, just staring at the wall. It reminded him of when he was back in grade school, when he got into trouble he were forced to to sit on a chair looking straight at the wall.

As the teen ate, he wondered where Dwight was. Could he have gone to see his dad? What was everyone planning? Carl recalled the paper in the back of his pocket and wished that he could look at it, however was just grateful that he wasn't searched.

Once he was finished eating, the woman re-bound his wrist and left as silently as she had come. Carl watched as the door closed. He wondered how these people could follow such an asshat like Negan, so blindly. How they'd give up their freedom for an easier life, but what about the couples who still lived together? How hard was it really for them to live under Negan's rule?

He flexed his right hand, trying to ball it into a fist but was unsuccessful. Carl gritted his teeth as pain shot through his entire arm making it numb again. He turned back to the wall silently chastising himself for being so careless to fall for Negan's ploy.

The slingshot was a distraction. However it was a very good one. Negan knew that it would disarm the teen, it would force his eye off the knife. Even if it was for a quick second, the man was fast and all he needed was just half of that second.

After a couple hours, Carl had started to nod off. When the door opened, the teen blinked thrice trying to shake the clouds away that threatened to make him black out again. The ties were cut from the post and Carl was forced to his feet. His arms forced behind his back as rope bound his wrists. Carl hissed in pain as he felt the wound on his right hand sting with sharp pain. A blindfold tied around his head.

"Not a sound boy," Jordan's voice hissed.

Carl scowled, "where's Dwight?"

Suddenly he felt his mouth forced open and a sharp edge pressed against his tongue. Carl balled his hands as he felt the blade press against his tongue.

"You deaf boy? I fucking dare you!"

Carl remained still, as if carved from stone. He felt the blade being pulled from his mouth, leaving the obvious metallic taste in his mouth. But there was something else in his mouth, something that added to the taste and Carl realized it was iron; blood.

The teen was pushed forward, nearly making him fall face flat. A hand dropped onto the back of his neck and pulled him along. He was led down the hallway and outside to the waiting vehicle. Carl was practically thrown into the trunk and it closed with a loud _bang!_ Carl wondered where Lyra was, if they had already taken her. The teen couldn't help but wonder if Negan had caused her more pain. Just the thought angered Carl. The apprentice had suffered through enough, and it was clear that Dwight was not going to be helping her anymore. That risk was over.

XXXXXX

Carl felt himself being lifted and then dropped non-too-gently on the ground. Before Carl could shift, he felt a pair of hands haul him to his feet and force him through. The moans of walkers between the fence and factory sounded near. Instinctively Carl reared back not wanting to get bit, however there was a low chuckle as they forced him forward through the gate.

Through the series of halls, he was forced to stop at the locked doors and then forced to move again. On the last stop, Carl could hear some voices through the door, he strained to hear but couldn't make anything out. The teen straightened the best he could however knowing exactly who was on the other side.

"There's the killer!"

The blindfold fell and Carl glared at Negan who sauntered up to him with Lucille on his shoulder. The teen flinched as the sadistic leader grabbed his injured hand and examined it.

"Not too damn bad," Negan commented, then watched as Carl tried to conceal his pain. "Oh...you're almost there. Almost damn convincing..."

Carl tried to wrench his wrist out of the grip but it was like iron. He felt tears prick his eye as the pain ached him. Negan gave him a smart grin before releasing Carl's hand and wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

"Hey Lyra!"

The apprentice looked up to see the two. She scowled when she saw Negan's arm around Carl's shoulders.

"Here's your fucking 'helper' back," he said pushing Carl towards her. Lyra steadied him and waited until he was standing straight before turning back to Negan.

"Any of you fuckers pull another fucking stunt like that, I'll let Jordan have one of you while the other watches."

Negan signalled his men to leave.

The two watched in silence as the Saviours left. Lyra was the first to break her stance, leaning heavily on the metal table. Carl looked over and saw how exhausted the apprentice had become in a few short seconds.

"Fucking prick," Lyra hissed.

"Lyra," Carl said stepping towards her.

"I'm so sorry Carl, I didn't want you to get hurt." Gently Lyra took Carl's wounded hand between hers. Cupping it gently as if it were an egg. "But I guess that backfired."

Carl shook his head. He didn't want Lyra to blame herself. It wasn't her fault, the only one to blame was Negan.

"Did Stacy give it to you?"

Carl reached into his back pocket and pulled out the paper. He opened it sensing Lyra's patient eyes on him. Then his jaw dropped.

Drawn on the sheet was a well-made map, the rectangles represented the major shelters, the Sanctuary, Alexandria and something called the Kingdom. The squares were smaller shelters such as farms, houses where people were under rule of Negan including the factory Lyra and Carl were stuck at. A thick lead line was drawn from the factory to Alexandria, the word 'road' was written along the thick line and it also included an approximate time; 2 days.

Carl stared at the map in awe. He looked over to Lyra who was leaned up against the table. The bag of bullets on the table. She dug into her own pocket and took out a key.

"Open the east back door, nicked it off Stabby no less."

"Wh-." Carl looked back at the map.

"Stacy," Lyra interrupted. "She used to be a geographer before shit went south. She created a map, being Negan's wife, she had access to all the materials she needed. When I entered, she must've caught wind and I managed to get a message to her about where I wanted to escape."

"Escape?" the word caught in Carl's throat.

Lyra looked at him gently, she straightened slightly showing confidence behind her words.

"I'm not going to survive if I stay here any longer," the apprentice said, "I'd rather die out there than in here."

"You think that you can do that? What about the walkers?"

Lyra gave him a smirk and walked over to the door. With the crowbar, she pried it open and gave a short whistle. Carl instinctively bristled as a walker romped in. It's rotten teeth gnashed as it's blood-filled eyes stared the apprentice down. Lyra kicked it against the wall before slamming the door shut, catching another walker's arm. The arm was cut off with such force. Lyra looked back in time to see Carl stabbing the walker in the head.

"I've heard about this...," Lyra said waving the ripped off arm. "But never actually tried it."

XXXXXX

They had done it. God knows how – but it was finished.

Rick looked at the supplies. It was a double cache. He had being so paranoid about loosing what he had, he managed to convince Daryl, Tobin and Abraham to stay up all night to guard storage.

Time was marching on into the afternoon, and Rick was beginning to wonder if Negan was even coming. The sadist was supposed to show up in the morning. The man was never late before and had showed an annoying punctuality when he wants to pick up what he believes is his.

Anxiously Rick paced back and forth trying to wan out some of the anger that pulsed around him. Every Alexandrian had felt the new intimidating anger emitting from their leader, and some were down right terrified. Very few actually spoke to Rick, those who did would speak in choppy sentences. The only ones who spoke to Rick on a regular basis were his original members. However it was clear that they were trying to figure out how to navigate Rick's changing behaviour.

"They're here!" Sasha shouted from her atop her post.

Rick nodded his thanks and watched as Tobin rolled the linked fence out of the way.

Three trucks rolled through slowly and stopped before the shed. Rick watched as the Saviours jumped out along with Negan. He looked back to see Michonne, Daryl, Heath, Tara and Rosita all on guard as the Saviours spread themselves out.

"Where's the weakling?" Negan asked.

Eugene was out of infirmary for a couple days now and took his place back in the shed despite not being able to do much.

"He's...not here," Rick said.

"Still laid up?" Negan asked, "damn you hit hard."

Rick balled his fist. He sure as hell wished he could show Negan just how hard he could hit.

"Load 'er all up boys!" Negan hollered.

The Saviours started to load the vehicles. Everyone watched knowing that no one could do anything.

"How's Carl?" Rick asked.

There was a silence. The father bristled. "What did you do to him?"

Everyone else seemed to sense their leader's anxiety. A few side-glanced each other before looking back at Rick wanting to have action, wanting to make all these bastards pay.

"Your boy sure has a temper," Negan said twirling Lucille in a few tight circles. Rick knew from this motion that the leader was sending a warning, that if the father stepped one way wrong then the weapon would be brought down on him.

"Your severe lack of discipline is astounding!" Negan commented enjoying the clear rage on Rick's face. "I honestly feel bad, stepping in and taking all the fucking fun."

Unable to hold himself back, Rick stepped forward and grabbed Negan by the lapels. Before anyone could react Rick started to scream.

"Where is he?! What the fuck have you done with him?! What have you done?!"

Daryl and Heath rushed forward and pulled Rick off. The leader tried to take a swing but Negan merely leaned back with ease so that the fist missed its' target.

"Relax," the sadistic leader said, "the boy isn't dead if that's what your getting at."

Rick continued to glare at Negan as he gave a slight chuckle.

"Alright, pick one."

Rick looked back at his group.

"I want to go see him."

"I said pick one asshat."

"I want to see my so- _ugh_!"

Lucille struck Rick in the jaw. The leader crumpled to the ground as another two blows were delivered to his side. Rolling on the ground, Rick tried to hide the pain but was unable to as it blossomed all over.

He could hear his name being shouted and through watery eyes, he saw his group members being held back.

"I don't fucking get you."

He looked over to see Negan looming over predatorily. Rick tried to get up but felt Lucille crash onto his back making it feel like it snapped in two. He coughed violently, feeling something spit out of his mouth and run rivulets down his chin. Shakily he wiped his mouth, to see that it was blood.

"You keep fucking persisting."

Another strike was delivered making it feel like his ribs were being broken. His name was shouted repeatedly, but the voices were distant. All Rick wanted was for them to stop, for everyone to shut up.

He heard something shuffle towards him and carefully raised his head to see Negan kneeling down.

"I did say that if you fucked with me again, the Latino would get it. That she would be on the ground next."

Rick gasped as he tried to speak. He tried to shout to his people to get Rosita out, to hide her.

"Hold her."

There was another fury of voices and the sounds of a struggle. Rick closed his eyes feeling pain shudder through his body.

"...no...," Rick whispered, "...st-stop...!"

His words had no effect. Rick struggled to his feet, he felt his broken ribs crush together making his eyes bulge in pain. He managed to get to his feet but his posture was weak and hunched over, it was difficult for Rick to even think about taking a step much less actually taking one. When he opened his eyes he saw blurred figures struggling.

"...Stop...!" Rick tried to shout, but his insides hurt too much. He felt like he was going to pass out but he forced himself to stay awake. He needed to, he needed to get Rosita to safety, away from the monster. "W-wait...just st-."

 _Thwack!_

XXXXXX

Carl stayed close to Lyra, the bag on his shoulder. He looked at the walkers all around, just ambling about ignoring the two. He looked down at the blood and guts on his shirt and pants. He never expected that he'd find himself doing this again; Carl didn't even think it then. Unconsciously he reached up and touched the closed eyelid.

 _Snap!_

He turned completely to see that Lyra snapped the last of the wire.

"I could've done that," the teen said coming up behind the apprentice.

"I don't want you to damage your hand anymore," Lyra said matter-of-factly.

Carl looked down at his right hand. Compared to the rest of him, it was the only clean part. Lyra had wrapped some strips of cloth around it to give it extra protection against the infected blood.

"Get going?" Lyra nodding to the hole in the fence.

Carl walked through and finally Lyra. On the other side of the fence, Carl saw the expression on his lover's face deepen. He walked up to her slowly, not wanting to startle her. Carefully he placed his hand in Lyra's.

"Don't look back."

The two tried to place as much distance between them and the factory to start. When they found their bearings, Carl opened the map and started to follow it.

"What's 'the Kingdom?'" Carl asked.

"Heard it mentioned a few times," Lyra said rummaging through her bag. She had packed a bag with a spare set of clothing for the two, and the remainder of the rations. "Not a lot though. Another encampment that Negan managed to coerce. Is there a stream near by?"

The stream was a few hours away from their position. They walked mostly in silence, their disguises giving them the benefit of the doubt when they ran into walkers. Carl looked over at Lyra who had this odd expression on her face. He didn't understand. He expected Lyra to be happy that she was out of there, that she was getting out of Negan's grip.

At the stream, the two undressed from their disguises and cleaned themselves the best they could. Carl had a bit of trouble with his wounded hand. Lyra gave a slight smile before walking over and taking the wash cloth.

"Here," Lyra whispered as she dragged the cloth lightly over Carl's body. He felt himself give an involuntary shudder as she crossed his torso. Lyra gave a slight smile when she saw her lover's reaction. Gently she leaned in and kissed him on the lips, Carl was more than willing to oblige. Then Lyra unexpectedly pulled away.

"Are you okay?" Carl asked finding himself once again slightly bewildered by Lyra's behaviour.

The apprentice let out a slight breath. "I'll get used to it."

Carl closed his eye. The sacrifice and risk that Lyra was putting herself through, to help him and to be free from Negan. Now the weight of the consequences were pushing on her. Unknowingly, Lyra felt tears prick her eyes and wiped them away.

"I'm not going back," she reassured, when Lyra saw Carl's expression. "Rather die than go back."

"The bullets, the map and the key will convince my dad enough to let you stay," Carl said strongly. "It will Lyra. This is more than anyone's done, more than I even."

Lyra gave him a small smile and pulled Carl in. The two felt heat emit from each other, it was a comforting warmth even in the summer heat.

"I won't leave," she whispered gently. Carl felt a sensation rise in him as he hugged back fiercely, afraid to let go.

Lyra pulled away and wiped the last of the few tears from her eyes.

"Come on...let's stay here for the night."

XXXXXX

"Carl...," Lyra whispered shaking him hard.

The teen rolled in his sleep not exactly awake. Giving a slight disgruntled humph, Lyra shook the teen by the shoulders before giving his face a few quick taps.

"Carl!" she called in the same hissed whispered. "Wake up!

The teen's eye shot open and Lyra got off as he propped himself up on his elbows.

"Wha-."

Lyra placed a finger to her lips and pointed up to the trees. She moved to a large Oak and proceeded to climb. Following her lead, Carl scrambled off the ground and pulled himself up into the tree.

"There's someone close," Lyra whispered when Carl was up a safe distance. "Heavy footsteps, they have a gun too, shot it off a couple times."

Carl nodded and went to withdraw his knife when Lyra stopped him.

"Let me handle this," the apprentice whispered. "If it's a Saviour then I need to know what Negan is planning."

Carl was about to protest, when Lyra's softened her expression for him. It caused him to falter slightly.

"Please...stay..."

The teen nodded and Lyra gave his shoulder a soft squeeze. Then as if someone had flicked a switch, the soft gaze turned dark and hard.

The footsteps drew closer and Carl felt himself instinctively tense as if ready to pounce but another light tap on his shoulder broke the spell. Before he could say anything, Lyra whipped passed him with her knife in hand and landed on the back of the survivor.

The two fell to the ground. Lyra tried to stab the knife downward, but the survivor was bigger than her and easily tossed her off as if she were a fly. Quickly Lyra whipped around and then dropped the knife just as it was about to slice Carl's throat open. She let out a shocked breath, then bent and picked up the knife.

"Carl get out of the way!" Lyra shouted. As soon as the words had left her mouth, she realized why Carl had jumped in like that, at the risk of getting his throat slit.

The man before them stared at the pair with shocked eyes.

"What the f-."

"Abraham?!"


	15. Chapter 15

Beep...beep...beep...

Rosita's eyes fluttered. Her vision was slightly blurred around the edge making it hard for her to focus. She looked around. It took her a while but she managed to make out the machines hooked into her. There were racks of medical supplies, and a box filled with the pills that her, Daryl and Denise had gone to get. Rosita felt her heart drop as she recalled the painful memory.

"Are you alrigh'?"

The Hispanic looked over to see Eugene coming over. She gave a slight nod but even that gave her a pulsing migraine. The former teacher walked over and picked up a bottle. He popped it open and poured a couple into Rosita's hand.

"Here," he said offering her a tumbler.

She gave him a small smile, as she took a drink.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Rosita shifted to get comfortable but sharp pains ran through her entire body.

"Ah...ugh...!" she hissed in pain.

"Easy...," Eugene said quickly as he helped Rosita lay with his good hand. "It's alright...You'll be fine. It will take a while for you to heal."

Rosita clenched her teeth as another wave of pain pushed through her body making her convulse involuntarily. Eugene watched helplessly. He wanted to do something for the poor young woman, he had given her medication but felt that it wasn't enough. However he knew there wasn't much he could do, he wasn't a medic. Eugene wasn't really sure what he was in fact.

A slight warmth cupped his hand. He looked down at the hand then over at Rosita who offered him a slight smile.

"Look at us," she said.

Eugene let out a small unsure chortle. Then his face fell. His eyes went downcast as he took in the bandages and visible bruises.

"You have a major concussion, several broken ribs, as well as a ruptured spleen and several broken fingers."

Rosita's eyes widened as Eugene listed off her injuries. She looked down to see three fingers on her left hand bound tightly, and her side pained her confirming the ruptured spleen.

The remembrance of the attack surfaced, bringing on new pain. Rosita turned her head towards the window feeling tears prick her eyes. Through the curtain she saw people patrolling the wall, a few were working on loading a truck while others were walking around.

A few tears slid down her face as she recalled the darkness after taking the first hit to her head. Then she felt it cross her back. Then...there was silence. An odd quiet that Rosita had welcomed from the pain; the feeling that she was dying.

Then a soothing warmth touched cupped her hand. She looked over to see Eugene sitting on the chair, his hand gently over hers. She tried to stop the tears from falling, but was unable to and it seemed that they fell even faster.

"It's alright," Eugene said gently.

Unable to stop herself, Rostia's body leaned against Eugene's. Taking by slight surprise, the former teacher didn't know how to react at first. But coming to his senses, he carefully wrapped his arms around her, gentle not to cause her any more pain.

XXXXXX

"What happened to your hand?"

A fire burned before all three. The teen stayed mostly close to Lyra, not caring what the man had thought or was clearly putting two-and-two together in his mind.

"An accident," Carl replied.

Abraham raised an eyebrow and looked over at Lyra. "Some fucking accident."

Lyra let out a small breath and looked over at Carl giving him a small shrug. The teen frowned not sure why she wanted him to tell the truth but let out a small breath of his own.

"Negan did it," Carl finally relented. "He...stabbed me with his knife."

He looked up to see Abraham visibly tense.

"Your dad's not going to like that story," the man replied, "especially not all the trouble he went to make sure you didn't get hurt. And I suppose those wounds on your face and neck are from the fucking wind huh?"

Carl scowled at the ground, "Dwight."

"That blonde shit stain did that?"

The teen didn't reply, instead continued staring into the fire.

"'That blond shit stain', is a lot more capable than you know," Lyra said coming to Carl's defence.

Abraham did a once glance at Lyra.

"So where do you fit in all this? Besides teaching Carl and knowing Eugene I mean."

"I've worked for Negan for the good part of a year," Lyra admitted. "Making bullets and repairing weaponry."

"How did you end up in the Sanctuary?"

"Long story."

"What are you doing here?" Carl asked.

"Looking for your skinny ass," Abraham said. "Your dad's being sending out 'supply' parties in disguise to finding an escape route for you kid."

Carl felt his jaw drop slightly.

"You're his kid," the ex-sergeant reminded. "Don't think that your dad's gonna sit still." He took another look at the two before him. "Does your dad know about...this?"

"No," Carl replied.

Abraham looked at Lyra. "Weren't you involved in all that Governor crap?"

"Tara as well, don't see you burning her ass over a flame."

"That was different," Carl interrupted again.

"And it only took you several months to balls up and tell her," Abraham finished.

Carl felt the tips of his ears go red as he saw Lyra raise an eyebrow. He wondered what else his father had revealed to everyone without his knowing. Quickly he changed the subject.

"If dad was sending out 'parties', then why are you alone?"

"He actually sent me to Hilltop," Abraham admitted. "Wants to know what Jesus was up to."

Carl took out the map and looked.

"But you're in the opposite direction of Hilltop."

"Took a detour to find out what you're up to. However from the looks of it, seems like you got all your shit sorted out."

"Jesus won't help you."

The two looked at Lyra.

"Negan got to him too well. If Negan tells Jesus to do something, the guy will do it no matter how cool and collect he may seem."

"Clearly, I threatened to climb up the wall and shove my size eleven foot up his ass and he didn't even bat an eyelash as he told me to 'fuck off'."

"Yeah...that sounds about right." Lyra reached over and grabbed the bullet bag. With a bit of difficulty, she tossed it at Abraham's feet. He looked in and gave a low whistle.

"What the hell have you frisky kids being up to?"  
Carl felt his cheeks flush and was about to speak when Lyra interrupted him by placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"What I promised to Rick," Lyra said, "in return he promised to give me haven in Alexandria."

Abraham raised an eyebrow. "If you wanted to negotiate sweetheart, ya shouldn't have given me the goods."

"We're not negotiating on anything," Carl said stiffly.

"That's seems to be between Lyra and your dad."

Carl was about to speak again when Lyra stopped him by taking his hand in her own. Gently she rubbed the back with her thumb, it had an odd effect on the teen and he let out a breath. He knew that Abraham was watching the pair, but he didn't care the only one he thought of now was Lyra.

"She got us a map," Carl said pulling it from his pocket. "And a key to a back door to the Sanctuary."

Abraham looked at the two items then back to the pair in front of him.

"How did you kids get this? Did you ring the doorbell?"

Carl was about to speak when Lyra beat him to it.

"For either of us to get into the Sanctuary we either had to be dead or dying," Lyra explained. "So I overdosed on the painkillers and alcohol that Dwight had given me to keep the blood infection out of my knee." She looked over at Carl, " getting beaten up by Dwight and Jordan wasn't part of the plan though."

"I thought you were actually dead!" Carl protested.

"I'd say that's a fair excuse," Abraham butted in.

"Granted. I still have some friends back in the Sanctuary so I used up my favours and got us what we needed."

"To do what? Invite them for a tea party?"

"A preemptive attack."

A silence fell around the fire. Both Carl and Abraham looked at Lyra as if she had gone mad, even Carl was unaware of this. She gave the pair a slight grin.

"Better than a tea party right?"

XXXXXX

Rosita woke to the light shining through the curtains. She looked over to see Eugene sleeping on the side of the bed. Again she was taken by surprise, this was the second time that the former teacher stayed with her.

Over the past couple days, he helped her get up and off the bed and move around for a little exercise. She had gotten slightly light headed once and wanted to continue to see if she could shake off the clouds. However Eugene wouldn't allow it and guided her back to the bed. It was lucky that he had because near the bed, Rosita had passed out. With the bed so close, Eugene was able to get up on onto the cot even with one hand.

The young woman was thankful for all that he was doing, but she wasn't exactly sure why he was doing it in the first place. Was he trying to make up for the past? That was the only thing that Rosita could think of. She looked back at the sleeping man, waiting for him to wake.

Eugene woke several moments later, he too woken by the sun in his eyes. He rubbed the grit from his eyes and looked over to see Rosita who was looking out the window. She looked back sensing him awake and whispered, "morning."

The former teacher gave a small smile in return, "morning. How are you feeling?"

"I'm doing okay, you?"

"Fine, but I'm more worried about you."

Rosita placed her hand in his own. "I know that you still hurt too Eugene."

He bit his lip knowing that he couldn't hide from her.

"There is a difference from being beaten by fists and beaten by a bat wrapped in barbed wire."

Rosita instinctively swallowed remembering the pain. Eugene saw that he had caused her to recall the terrible memory and immediately felt bad. He wished he kelt his mouth shut, if he hadn't said anything then it would've being better.

"It's okay," she whispered. Eugene looked at her. "We'l...get though."

The former teacher tried to give a slight smile but he was still burdened with slight guilt over what he had said

"Remember when we were crossing through Kentucky?" Rosita asked.

A small smile spread on Eugene's face as he gave a slight chuckle.

"How you got up into that 2-ton truck so fast I still have no idea!" she laughed as the memory resurfaced. The former teacher tried to keep a straight face but ended up giving his own laughs.

"Thought that Abraham was just going to shoot me to get me down," he admitted.

The two shared a few more chuckles. A light silence fell in the room, but the atmosphere was lighter than it had being in days.

"Can I stay with you?"

Eugene looked at the young woman in surprise. He knew that she was staying in a spare house with a few other singles after her painful break up with Abraham.

"Um...yeah," Eugene said trying hard to keep the uncertainty out of his voice.

"It's...just that I want to stay with someone I know."

"No...uh yeah I completely understand. It's a bit quiet in my house anyway, could use the company."

Rosita smiled.

"Thank you."

XXXXXX

The next day, Rosita was ready to leave the medic bay. Tara was unsure of whether or not to let Rosita leave but she reassured that she was ready. A couple people who Rosita was living with packed her things for her and moved it into the spare room in Eugene's house. With the help of the community, the move was quite effortless for both.

"Are you sure about this?"

Eugene looked over at Rick. The two were walking around the courtyard, they had watched Heath place the last of Rosita's boxes into Eugene's house.

"Yeah," he said confidently. "Rosita said she wants familiarity."

They watched as Rosita walked slowly towards the house under the watchful eye of Tara. Eugene started to walk over, wanting to be there for Rosita. Rick followed.

"I wanted to talk about Negan," the leader said.

Eugene felt all the blood rush to his feet, he walked faster but Rick matched his pace with ease.

"What he did to Ros-."

The former teacher abruptly stopped. "I don't know what you want Rick, what you told Abraham to make him stay out so damn long but you gotta stop."

Rick was taken aback by the man's words, he saw the sternness in his face through the still blackened eye and busted lip.

"I'm trying to find my son," Rick countered.

"That bastard had kept his promise, he said that if you retaliated any more then he would beat Rosita. Well guess what – he did."

The leader balled his fists, "I know."

"He kept his promise Rick, god knows what he'll do next. Who he _will_ go after next."

Rick felt himself swallow hard. Negan promised not to hurt his son, but the father had often found himself contemplating whether or not what the sadist was saying was true or not. It would be easy for a man like Negan to say whatever he wanted so long as he got what he wants.

At the doorstep of Eugene's house, Rosita used the aid of the railing. It was clear that she was still having slight trouble walking especially with her slightly bent posture, but she managed with Tara's help.

All four went into the living room and Tara had Rosita sit down.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

Rosita shrugged. "A little better."

Tara took out a small bottle and set it on the table. "One of those should do you every four hours."

"Thanks Tara."

The young woman nodded and took her leave. The three remained in the room, they were all silent unsure of what to say. Finally Rick spoke up.

"I'm sorry Rosita," he apologized openly, his usual dominant voice was now hoarse. "It's my fault."

The woman shook her head. "You don't have to apologize Rick...he hurt you too. Are you alright?"

Compared to Rosita, Rick was far better. He had a few cracked ribs and bruises, that was it.

"I'm fine, but I'm more worried about you."

"I'm alright. I'll adjusted with Eugene's help." Rosita looked over at the former teacher who nodded without hesitating. Rick looked between the two, he knew that he couldn't do anything about it. Asking Rosita to move back into the infirmary was clearly out of question and Eugene didn't seem to mind.

The door suddenly burst open and Michonne ran in.

"Rick," she gasped, "you gotta see this."

The leader was near the door before the swords-woman had the chance to finish. Eugene helped Rosita up and they walked out onto the patio.

Outside people were crowding around as the doors were opened. Immediately voices echoed around Alexandria, some where excited while others were worried. Rick pushed his way through and gapped at the scene.

Splattered in blood and oddities from head to toe, Abraham helped an equally splattered Carl through the door. The teen was visibly shaking, tears streaming down his face as his laboured breath could be heard by those closest around him. Abraham too was breathing hard but was able to control it through breathing techniques.

"Wha-," Rick tried to speak but he was unable to. He couldn't believe his eyes and it was taking everything in his power not to pull Carl into a tight hug in front of everyone. He felt tears prick his own eyes and took in a breath to steady him.

Carl tried to take a few steps but his legs crumpled under him causing him to fall painfully to the ground. Rick immediately picked him up and the people cleared the way. He looked back at Abraham who nodded knowing what the father wanted to do.

Once Rick was gone, the Alexandrians started to disperse to their own homes and chores. While the excitement lingered, there was a slight undertone of hesitation and worry. Everyone wanted to know the whole story.

"Abraham!"

The ex-sergeant looked over to see Sasha, Eugene and Rosita coming towards him. He straightened seeing Rosita's injured posture.

"Abraham!" Sasha exclaimed wrapping her arms around him not caring about the bodily fluids. "What happened? Are you injured?"

Abraham shook his head. "I'm fine...what about you guys? Rosita...?"

"I'm fine," the young Hispanic said. "What happened to you two?"

A shadow of guilt passed over Abraham's face.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: _Hey, I've b_ _eing busy for the past couple weeks, and didn't have time to write. Will try and get back on track this week. Thanks for reading. Spitfire47_

* * *

Carl's eye slowly opened. He blinked in the assaulting light and chose to keep his eye closed. He let out a strained sigh as he felt the soreness in his muscles. Despite the warmth that lingered in the air, there was a chill that ran through Carl as the memory assaulted him. He tried to think of something else but failed and felt guilt ram into what was left of his heart.

He felt tears fall unashamed.

 _Click..._

There was a small clash of voices and Carl looked up in time to see Michonne coming in. She had a rare look of worry on her face as rushed to the teen's side.

"Carl," she whispered, her tone soft and gentle. The teen didn't reply, instead sent the swords-woman a seething glare much to her surprise. Before Michonne could make any sort of reply, the door burst open and there stood Rick.

Without hesitation, he rushed over to the bed side. Michonne moved just in time as the father leaned in and embraced his son. Rick buried his face against Carl skin, he could still smell the metallic must from the small factory. Carl didn't return the embrace.

Rick pulled himself off slowly, he was unsure of how to react to his son's behaviour – or lack of. However he understood why. Abraham had told him what happened.

"I'm sorry Carl."

The teen didn't listen. He turned his head to show to his displeasure of having his dad here. Rick felt a lump grow in his throat, he knew that Michonne's eyes were on him. She was clearly wondering why his son would act like this, especially at this time. Rick would deal with it later.

"Please listen…I can't-."

"No…you can't," Carl interrupted curtly.

"I know you loved her."

"No…I _love_ her and you just killed her."

Rick struggled to find words to comfort his son but is unable to. He looked over to Michonne, he wanted – _needed_ \- help to get his son to understand, but a single glance at the swords-woman made it clear that it wasn't going to happen. Wordless, Rick walked out of the room. Michonne lingered for a few more seconds, however the atmosphere made it clear that there wasn't going to be a conversation. She left.

The door closes with a soft _click_ , Carl felt his body slightly quake as tears shone in his eye. something he's never done in a long time. A small tremour went through his body making the tears shake free and Carl allowed them to fall. The temperature in the room feels as if it was decreasing steadily, freezing the teen in his vulnerable position.

 _Click!_ Carl closed his eye. He wanted to shout at whoever had come into the room. The teen didn't want to talk to anyone, he didn't even want to look at anyone. Since the room was quiet, Carl could hear the soft footsteps patter across the floor towards the bed.

"Fuck off," Carl whispered, not caring if the intruder had actually heard or not.

"Can't believe you kissed me with that mouth kiddo."

Carl's eye snapped open as he whipped around fast.

Standing at the edge of the bed was Remi. Her hands were in her pockets and her head was tilted just slightly as if she were studying the teen. Her hair hung down, some of it fell in her face curtaining her unique features.

Carl's jaw dropped slightly. He didn't want her here, anything but her. As if hearing the teen Remi shifted foot-to-foot. It was worse that Remi wasn't talking.

More tears fell down Carl's face against his will. He bit the bottom of his lip wanting Remi to just disappear. He closed his eyes.

"I'm not lonely."

He looked over, steeling himself the best he could despite the tears. However all he saw was calm, concern and understanding. It was the same expression Lyra would give him when she knew that he was lying.

Carl closed his eye again as the tears fell.

XXXXXX

 _Several days ago..._

"Shit!" Abraham said raising his gun.

"Wait!" Lyra shouted jumping in front of the barrel. She brought her knife down on the walker before stabbing the one next to it. "We have to be quiet, making too much noise will lead them all right to us."

"And you thinking shouting is any quieter?" Abraham demanded.

"Better than a gunshot that resonates through the entire fucking forest!"

The two looked over at Carl who had killed the third with the barrel of a gun that he had taken off a dead survivor. It didn't have any bullets, but so long as it killed walkers, no one cared.

"I nearly killed your girlfriend kid," Abraham said slinging his gun over his shoulder. " _Again_!"

Lyra rolled her eyes as Carl gave a small sigh.

"Ly-."

"We have to be quiet," Lyra reminded. "And your dad's friend here isn't making it easy, shooting off five rounds into every walker he sees."

Abraham waved off her complaint.

"We gotta keep going," he said.

Carl opened Stacy's map, he looked up to see a slight uncomfortable look on Lyra's face.

"If we go West, we'll hit Hilltop in about a day tops, " Carl informed.

"We're going to Alexandria," Abraham said taking the map. "No questions."

"That would take two more days," Lyra pointed out. "We're running low on our food, and we don't have any shelter unless you like sleeping in trees."

"No fucking trees, think a branch went up my ass last night."

"Shelter it is then," Carl said taking the map back.

That night, they were unlucky. They did find a small clearing that they used to set up a fire. Lyra had left for a few hours to try and find something but came back empty handed. Carl had looked into their supplies and saw that there were only two cans left of vegetables, and a stale chunk of bread. They decided to split one can and ate the rest of the bread.

Lyra said that she would take first watch against the other's protest. However she claimed that she couldn't sleep anyway.

Several hours passed and Carl woke from his troubled sleep. He tried to go back to sleep but was unable to. He looked over to see Lyra still sitting at the small fire. He walked over and sat beside her.

"Hey," he said hoarsely.

Lyra nodded, "hi."

"So how do you like Abraham?"

She raised an eyebrow seeing the playful smile on her lover's face.

"Well...he knows what he's doing, which is a good change."

"He helped keep Eugene alive."

Lyra looked down at the ground. "Sure Carl, but he was tricked into doing it. Don't think that a man like Abraham would've actually protected someone like Eugene halfway across the damn country."

"What are you going to do in Alexandria?"

"Suppose that I'll do what I did for Negan...pull my weight that way. Maybe my old teacher and I can think of new defences too."

"You could live with me," Carl said continuing the thought.

Lyra raised an eyebrow. "You know that would include your dad right?"

"We could move out."

"Mmhh...look at you – big boy moving out of his parent's house."

Carl blushed as a light chuckle emitted from the two. A gentle arm wrapped around his shoulders and Carl looked over to see Lyra giving him a small smile. There was something else though, something that seemed off about her expression.

"Stacy will be fine," Carl tried.

Lyra merely nodded. "I know she's a smart woman, but she's not very strong Carl. She doesn't know how to fight and if Negan ever found out...Maybe it was too big of a risk to ask of her." The apprentice welder sighed. "No point in dwelling on it now I suppose."

Carl knew that was Lyra's way of deflecting her problems.

"I'm right here." The teen reached down and intertwined his hand between his lover's. Lyra gave a small smirk.

"You know there are going to be questions Carl," Lyra said seriously. "We have over a five years age difference between us."

"I don't care and you know that Lyra."

She nodded. "But it won't be you who will be under fire."

"I'll figure something out," Carl whispered.

"Not by yourself," Lyra reminded.

The two continued to sit by the fire. Their hands intertwined and heads resting against each other for support. Not too far away between the trees, Abraham watched the scene.

Another day passed slowly. The walker activity was slow which was a nice change, however all wanted to find a vehicle. It would make the trip a lot faster. They had come across a barn, inside was a car that had being gutted completely. Despite nothing else, Abraham told them that they'd rest for a bit here.

"It was in a barn."

Lyra looked over at Carl who was sitting on the car's hood. Abraham was outside, so it gave them privacy to talk. The apprentice got off the stairs and walked over, sitting beside Carl.

"Sophia?"

Carl nodded. "She was right there... When I woke, I couldn't remember a lot. There were pieces missing and my dad filled me in. I mean, I remembered who died but...sometimes the details weren't all there."

Lyra watched for any expressional changes in the teen's face but didn't see anyone.

"Does moving on count, when you can't even remember?"

Lyra's jaw dropped. Carl continued to look forward, however the atmosphere wasn't relaxed instead it felt heavy. Like a pressure weighing the two down so hard, that neither could move.

"No," Lyra finally replied. "If I couldn't remember my dad killing himself, it's not moving on. I'd need to face those feelings, I'd need to be able to overcome."

"That's the problem!" Carl said. "Sometimes I think about someone who died and wait. I wait to feel what I would've felt back then, for anything. But I get nothing."

Lyra closed her eyes feeling Carl's hand squeeze her own. She stroked the back in a comforting manner.

"Have you told your dad?"

Carl shook his head. After what he had discovered between his dad and Michonne, Carl hadn't really had much conviction in telling his dad what he felt about 'moving on.'

"I've...no."

Lyra raised an eyebrow yet acknowledged the teen's honesty.

"I know that it's hard," Lyra said. "But you have people who will listen Carl, who've being through the same trauma that they have. Trust them."

"Saviours!"

Carl and Lyra looked at each other. They grabbed their bags and then bolted outside. They looked to see a truck driving up. Abraham grabbed the two by their collars and hauled them into the forest.

"They already saw us!" Lyra protested.

"We can loose them in there," Abraham said.

 _Rata-ta-ta-ta!_ The gunfire rained on the three as they charged into the forest. Abraham had turned and shot at the three Saviours to scatter them. They returned fire.

" _Argh_!"

"Lyra!" Carl watched as the apprentice took a sharp left and disappeared. He was about to follow her when an arm looped around his waist and Abraham hoisted him over his shoulder.

"Can't let you slow us down kid!"

"Wait!" Carl shouted pushing against Abraham. "We have to wait."

The man continued to ignore the teen. Carl pushed the best he could however the man was too strong. He looked into the forest to try and find Lyra. If they continued, she would fall behind. That's when it struck him.

"Stop," Carl said, it first came out as a whisper then he said it again, "stop!

Abraham ignored him so Carl did something drastic. Awkwardly, he kicked the man in the abdomen.

Abraham let out a strangled cough as he pitched forward. Carl flew from his grasp and landed painfully on the ground. The bag slipped from his shoulder.

"What the fuck is your problem?!"

The teen coughed as he got up. A rough hand grabbed the back of his neck and shook him like one would a misfit pup.

"It's you that I need to worry about!" Abraham shouted back. "Don't you get it Carl? Between you or her? It would be you. It's what your dad told me."

Carl looked at the man dumbfounded.

"Wha-," the teen tried to speak, but couldn't.

Another gunshot rang out and Abraham grabbed Carl by the arm and pulled. He hoped that the teen would follow but instead he planted his feet on the ground.

"Use your fucking head boy," Abraham demanded getting more and more frustrated with the teen. "That was the choice! You or her, and...and your dad said to get you. And I agreed – we all did."

Carl's jaw dropped. "You...all...?"

"...well...most..."

Abraham looked at the teen's shocked expression and found himself getting frustrated again.

"She's a liability Carl! She's more use to Negan than you are, if we take her then we're dead."

"We're dead already!" the teen angrily shouted back.

There was a snap and both turned to see a Saviour bound down the rough terrain after them. The two took off, Carl scooped up the bag as he passed it.

"We have to find Lyra!" Carl shouted.

Abraham didn't reply. He grabbed Carl's shoulder and pulled him into a sharp turn before jumping down into a stream.

"Stop!" Carl screamed again pushing Abraham's hand off him. "Lyra! LY- _mmph_!"

A hand clamped hard on his mouth as he was pulled back against the dirt wall. He could hear the Saviour overhead. Dirt shook from the walls where his footsteps were. In the corner of Carl's eye, he saw Abraham's other hand on the hilt of his knife. But the Saviour took off after a few seconds.

"Looks like we- _argh_! Shit!" Abraham released Carl who spat out a wad of blood. "Son of a bitch!"

Carl backed up a bit knowing that the man had a temper. His heel caught on the loose bedrock and Carl fell backwards into the stream. Just as he was about to get up, a hand grabbed him by the lapels and hauled him up.

"You bit me!" Abraham cried in disbelief showing the teen the wound.

"Get away from me!" Carl shouted, pushing against the ex-seargent but the man didn't budge - hardly even felt it.

Abraham was about to speak when he clicked his tongue in annoyance to stop himself. He let Carl go.

"Stupid kid."

The teen angrily turned around and looked this way and that trying desperately to see if she can get even a sight on Lyra.

"Carl?"

The teen turned around in time for a fist to connect with his face. Immediately Carl went down, unconscious before he even touched the ground, Abraham knelt down and picked him up.

"Sorry kid."

Lyra could hear the stamping of feet as they chased her. She looked this way and that trying to find Abraham or Carl, preferably both. She bolted off in a random direction not wanting to stay in one place for long. That's when she saw him.

"Abra-."

She froze. Over the man's shoulder was Carl, but he wasn't moving.

 _What the..._

Lyra ran in his direction but the man was running too fast and Lyra didn't have the energy to keep up.

 _Shit...slow the fuck do-ugh!_

Lyra's foot hit a loose patch and she pitched forward. She felt herself tumble down the small slope and land painfully on the ground. Darkness edged her vision as she struggled to her feet. Her hands patted the ground for the bag that had slipped from her back. She looked in to see the rations still there.

The apprentice got up and looked around to see two Saviours to come down the slope, their rifles aimed at her. Lyra took out her knife and brandished it before her. The two stopped and looked at each other.

"Let's take it easy sweetheart," one said stepping forward. Lyra pressed the blade against her throat, blood trickling down her skin. He stopped and looked around. "Looks like they left you behind. That's a shame."

Lyra felt tears prick her eyes. She refused to believe it, she got separated that was all.

"When they balanced the value of you and the boy...should it really be a fucking surprise?"

A heavy pressure weighed on her chest. Her eyes lowered downcast. _Wham_! Lyra was tackled to the ground by the third Saviour, the knife flew out of her hand. Lyra managed to block a punch but one kicked her hard in the head making stars flash before her eyes. Too weak, Lyra was more controllable and was forced to her feet.

"Where are they?"

Lyra didn't speak. Angered the Saviour punched her in the mouth causing her to spin to the ground. She swallowed a mouthful of blood, before spitting more out.

"Where are they?!" he demanded again.

"Shit Marco, hittin' 'er ain't gonna make the bitch talk. Negan 'n Jordan will."

Marco looked to the other Saviour who merely shrugged.

"Negan looses his shit, and you're dead," Marco said pointedly to him. He looked at Lyra who still hadn't said anything. "Let's go home."


	17. Chapter 17

In the shed, Eugene stared at the broken vise. It was a bit of a dumb thing to be sad over. Sad...angry...and anything else that came into the former teacher's mind. He looked back down at the small vise that he had being working on previous.

Abraham had told him a censored version of what happened. However, Eugene was able to fill in the blanks, he was able to see the trickery that Rick had pulled and couldn't help but feel disgusted for his friend to be pulled into it.

 _Friend..._

No – Abraham was still the man's friend. But now...at the moment...not now.

Eugene stared at the broken parts. Slowly he got off the chair and knelt, picking up the pieces of the broken vise and tossing them onto a lain cloth. As he picked up the ends of the cloth, Rosita came into the shed. She looked over to see Eugene lifting the cloth, however a part of the screw fell out.

"Damn...," the man cursed under his breath. He set the broken pieces down angrily on the table and was about to kneel and grab the piece.

"Eugene," the young woman said rushing over to him. He looked up in shock to see Rosita here, she was still injured and was under order not to move around too much.

"Rosi-."

"Here..."

She scooped up the piece from the ground with ease and placed it on the table. Rosita looked at Eugene and saw a blank stare in his eyes that made him look dead.

"I...I'm so sorry," she whispered. However she didn't know what to say to try and comfort him. "Eugene...I'm so-."

"It's...," the former teacher swallowed trying to keep out the thoughts of what Negan would do to his former student. "Don't worry about it Rosita."

She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Don't say that Eugene..."

The former teacher looked at her seeing the sharpness in her eyes as she spoke. However he couldn't help but feel angry, and it formed faster and faster. Eugene took in a slight breath to calm himself down.

"Rosita, you shouldn't be here. You're still healing."

"I came to see if you were...managing," the young woman countered.

Eugene walked over and wrapped a protective arm around Rosita.

"Come on," he said gently ushering the Hispanic to the door. "Let's go home."

"What ab-."

"I'll get that tomorrow."

"Your hand, Eugene."

"I'll manage. You must rest now Rosita."

She was about to protest, but the soft breeze from the open door made her stop.

Outside, the lights were on however dimmed making the two walk mostly by the lit torches. It wasn't a long walk, but it had them cross the courtyard. Eugene could feel their eyes on him. They knew that Lyra, who they had purposely left behind, was Eugene's former student. Now everyone was waiting to see if the teacher would react.

"Ignore them Eugene," Rosita said loudly.

Some of the people turned their heads while others continued to look on despite hearing. The two walked briskly back to Eugene's. The man opened the door and Rosita walked through, once he was through himself he closed the door with a slight sigh. He hadn't even realized he had held his breath.

"What are you so worried about?"

Eugene looked over at Rosita who immediately bowed her head.

"I-I'm sorry," she said, "stupid question..."

"I am worried about Lyra," Eugene answered honestly. "But I'm also worried about Rick."

"What do you mean?"

"What he pulled. Getting either back, Lyra or Carl is dangerous, we are dead Rosita. Carl was supposed to be the barter between us and Negan, in bluntest of senses – that boy was the only thing that kept the Saviours from coming in and burning this place to the ground."

"Have you spoken to Rick about this?" Both knew that Eugene was never really one to be upfront.

"I've tried, but for the last while Rick's being avoiding me. And now I know why."

Rosita walked over to the cupboards and pulled out some cans.

"Come on, I'll make us some supper."

"You shouldn't exert yourself Rosita," Eugene said walking over to the cupboard. "I'm serious, let me help."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine then, set the table."

He took out the plates and cutlery while Rosita poured the contents into a small pot.

"What are you going to do about Abraham?"

Eugene frowned. "I don't want to think about that right now."

"Have the others tried to talk to you about what happened?"

The former teacher shook his head. "And right now I think that it's best that way."

The two worked in silence. Rosita focussed on the food while Eugene got the table set and poured water into the glasses. When the food was ready Rosita dished it out and the two sat down.

"You can't avoid them forever Eugene," Rosita reminded patiently taking a bite of food.

The former teacher took a sudden interest in his water glass but she continued.

"I can understand you're angry, but whatever you're planning you should have friends."

"I should've being told Rosita," Eugene said firmly. "But knowing what would happen if Lyra was involved, I can see why."

Rosita looked downcast. "I'm so sorry...I don't know how many times I can say it."

Eugene looked at Rosita.

"You don't have too, it's not you who should be sorry."

"That girl would've being able to help us," Rosita said.

Eugene felt his throat clog at the thought. He knew that Lyra would've being slightly awkward at working alongside her former science teacher. It would amuse the two of them, student turned teacher and vise versa. At least they would've being able have a laugh.

"Eugene...?"

The man let out a sigh. "Yeah...she would've."

XXXXXX

As the night progressed, Eugene made sure that Rosita was fine before wishing her a goodnight as he always did.

He had gotten over the fact that Rosita wanted to live with him. It actually made him happy to have the company. Now this was something different. Eugene couldn't deny that he had feelings for Rosita ever since that he saw her. She was a beautiful young woman, but during the time she was with Abraham. Then he heard that they broke up.

Just as Eugene was about to go to bed. There was a timid knock on his door. He walked over and opened and the door to find Rosita standing there. However it was what she was standing in, which confused Eugene the most.

She was in long pants, but was completely naked from the waist up. The gauze wrapped around her upper torso holding her broken ribs in place, outlined her breasts. The wrapping stopped around her diaphragm, however gauze was tapped to various spots on her abdomen where Lucille had dug deep into her skin. Rosita's head hung slightly low, as if in shame. It was clear that she had being crying.

"Rosita," Eugene whispered carefully. In all honesty, the former teacher didn't know how to react to this situation. He wanted to take her to the infirmary to ensure that Rosita wouldn't hurt herself intentionally.

Before Eugene could even speak, Rosita walked past him and went to his bed. She sat at first, but after a few minutes, she lied right down. Eugene watched her. He didn't quite understand the behaviour, he wasn't sure what to do, if he was actually supposed to do anything at all. Carefully, he walked over and laid a gently hand on her shoulder.

"Rosita," he repeated. He waited for a response, but received none. "I'll be in the living room if you nee-."

"Wait." The word was barely audible. Eugene had to lean in to hear more. "Stay..."

Eugene blinked in surprise. "Wh-."

"Please...hold me..."

The former teacher looked at the young Hispanic in shock. He wasn't sure if his hearing was deceiving him or not.

"Ros-."

"It's alright," she said giving him a weak smile.

Eugene rose and slowly walked around to the other side of the bed. He climbed in and lied beside her. Slowly, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and carefully pulled her in. He felt, Rosita shift but it wasn't away – instead it was to be closer.

"Just...hold me..."

Eugene closed his eyes. He wanted to speak, but before he even got a word out he knew that Rosita was fast asleep. The former teacher knew that Rosita was missing comfort, having someone by her. However there were other men around, men who have clearly had their eye for the young woman when they heard that Rosita and Abraham had broken up. Eugene was never the only one.

The former teacher let out a small breath. He didn't want to think about it now, it would drive him crazy. Adjusting carefully not to disturb Rosita, Eugene closed his eyes and slept.

XXXXXX

The next morning Eugene woke to the hard knocks on the door. He looked to see that he was still in bed and in front of him was Rosita. His arm was wrapped around her shoulders and she was small enough where his head laid on top of her own.

 _Just...hold me..._

Eugene remembered how sad the words were said. It can out like a pitiful confession, something that one doesn't not want to admit but it couldn't stay in any longer.

Eugene slowly got off the bed not to disturb Rosita who was still asleep. He walked out into the hallway when another couple knocks echoed in the room.

"Alright, alright," Eugene said slightly annoyed. He hoped that the knocks wouldn't wake Rosita. "I'm coming."

He wrenched open the door and felt his heart drop to the ground.

"Can I come in?" Rick asked.

Every nerve in Eugene's body told him to punch Rick. It was so strong that the former teacher thought he might've actually done it. However he gave a small swallow.

"Now's not a good time Rick," Eugene said emotionless.

"Eugene, I just want to talk."

"Too late," the man was about to close the door when Rick stopped it.

"Please...you hav-."

"Understand what?" Eugene finished, his tone hard. "Understand that you gave Lyra false hope for your own fucking needs?!"

"My own?!" Rick demanded incredulously. "What about the little food we now have? The lack of people prepared to fight? The lack of supplies?!"

"So what? 'The lives of many out weight the one?'"

"Is this because you know Lyra? Is that why?"

"Even if I hadn't, even if it was a complete stranger who had being tricked into helping. Who had being given the false hope, I'd still be against it."

Rick scowled. "Funny, coming from a man who claimed to know how to cure the virus."

Eugene felt like he had being beaten. He suddenly felt drained and exhausted. While he should've seen it coming after he spoke, hearing it out loud and in the open made it ten times worse.

"But I made - _making_ up for it," Eugene said after a few tense moments. "Helping create bullets, helping out around the community, caring for Rosita...I know it will be a long while until I can be fully trusted again, but at least I am making amends for my lies."

"So am I."

"What are you going to do for Lyra?"

Rick opened his mouth ready to speak, but immediately closed it. The only way that Rick could make it up to her is face-to-face. But by the time everyone made it to the Sanctuary, she would be dead.

Rick had originally come with good offerings in mind. He wanted to repay his actions to Lyra, vicariously through Eugene. But now it seemed that, that plan is no longer avaliable.

Eugene waited even though he knew that Rick would never be able to answer him.

"Get the fuck out of my house."

The leader looked at the former teacher and saw an uncharacteristic glare. Knowing that the argument had died, and with no reason to continue on, Rick obliged. _Slam!_

On the other side of the door, Eugene let out a sigh. He looked down to see his hand shake much to his surprise...or maybe not. The man hadn't being known really to stand-up for himself, and when he does it's to his leader.

"Eugene?"

He turned to see Rosita standing in the hall, she had a blanket wrapped around her. She saw the last bit of contempt on Eugene's face.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," Eugene said.

She sighed. "I know it was Rick."

Eugene blinked but answered his own question. The pair's shouting had woken her up, slamming the door wouldn't have helped either.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't worry about it," Rosita shrugged. "I'm going to get dressed, then go over to see Tara in the infirmary, would you like to come?"

Eugene nodded.

A few minutes later, the two left. Outside, people must've heard the shouting. Most stared at Eugene as he passed, some giving him a slight scowl for being so stubborn, others giving him a sympathetic look as if Lyra was already dead.

 _She may as well be._

Eugene shook his head. He didn't want himself to think like that, he wanted to know that Lyra was going to be okay. She was strong-willed and he remembered her being courageous even when the odds were against her.

They got to the infirmary and Eugene opened the door for Rosita, letting her go in first. Inside they were greeted by Tara who took them to the main room. There they were shocked to see Dr. Carson.

"I'm here to drop off Maggie. She no longer needs my attention."

"How is she?" Rosita asked.

"Physically fine, along with the baby - however mentally still uneasy which is to be expected of course."

"Dr. Carson's helping me with some medical procedures," Tara said, "plus Rick wants to train a couple more people. Dr. Carson's leaving tomorrow."

"It was actually Gregory's idea," the doctor explained, "an olive branch appeal to Rick in a way."

"He still wants to trade?" Eugene asked.

Dr. Carson nodded. "Those bastards came this week and most everything again. Gregory is desperate for next week."

"We don't have anything either," Rosita protested.

"I understand."

"Thanks for being here anyway," Tara said.

"Not a problem. I've heard how bad things have gotten."

A depressed silence filled the air. Dr. Carson bowed his head, silently chastising himself for bringing it up.

"It's alright," Eugene said seeing the doctor's expression. "It's true. We haven't being doing the greatest but I understand that Hilltop has being under fire too."

Dr. Carson nodded. "Unfortunately, we aren't equipped to task what the Saviours want anymore. Gregory's leadership is less than steady too."

"So this is his last attempt to do what?" Rosita demanded. "Fix whatever it is that is left to fix?"

"Honestly, I don't expect Rick to do anything."

"How is Carl doing?" Eugene asked turning to Tara.

"He's still not talking to anyone. The only person he'll allow in the room is me, but it's only when I have to change his bandages, and he doesn't want to talk."

"Must be hard on the kid," Dr. Carson said. "Hard to understand..."

"I understand," Eugene replied grimly.

All three turned to the former teacher, one in confusion and the other two in sympathy. Rosita stepped closer to Eugene, gently placing a hand on his shoulder and the other on his arm.

"Eugene," she whispered, "there's something you need to know about Lyra and Carl."

He looked down at Rosita, he was about to speak when a loud horn blared through the air, cutting like a knife.

Tara rushed over to the window and looked outside trying to see what was going on.

"Wha-."

Tara dropped the blind in shock. "It's Negan."

Everyone bristled and Dr. Carson even went slightly pale.

"Come on," Rosita said taking the Hilltop doctor to the back door.

"Take him to Heath's place," Eugene said, "it's closest."

Rosita nodded and the two disappeared. Once the door was secured behind them, Tara turned to Eugene.

"Come with me," she said. She led him to a spare room with a cot. Inside there was a young man in his twenties putting bandages away.

"Wha-," the young man asked, clearly confused.

"Negan's here," Tara said, "use the back door and go to Heath's place. Rosita and Dr. Carson are there. Hurry!"

He dropped the supplies and ran from the room. Eugene looked back at the Runner.

"One of the guys Rick wants trained."

She walked over to the window, Eugene stealing a peek himself.

"Fucker's coming right up here!" Tara said angrily. "What the hell is-."

"It's Carl," Eugene gasped. "We gotta hide him."

Tara turned to see the man dash from the room and she ran after him.

"Eugene, wait!"

He ignored her and burst into Carl's room. The teen jolted upward from his sleeping position. When his mind registered that someone was in front of him, Carl became defensive.

"Negan's here," Eugene said, "we gotta hide you."

Carl threw the covers off him and got out of bed. However, he stumbled from weakness. Eugene managed to catch him before he fell to the ground completely.

"Come on," Eugene ushered. He helped the teen over into the closet, he grabbed a roll of gauze from the trolley. "Use this, tie the doors as tight as possible."

"Why?" Carl demanded, his voice hoarse from lack of use.

"Because if Negan tries to open it, he'll think that it's broken."

Carl nodded seeing Eugene's point. As soon as the teen was in, Eugene closed it. He hoped that Carl was following the plan, however couldn't see why the teen wouldn't go along with it. It was a sound plan.

Eugene looked over in time to see Tara come in. She was shocked to see the empty bed.

"He's in the closet," Eugene said.

"They're at the door," Tara whispered, from the tone of her voice it was clear she was worried. Eugene walked over and laid his hands on her shoulders.

"It's okay Tara," he said. "All you're doing is taking care of a patient."

She looked back to the empty bed.

"But..."

Eugene grabbed the scalpel from the table and before Tara could stop him, made an incision on his jaw.

"What-!"

"It's deep enough to need stitches," Eugene winced, it hurt when he talked. "Get needle and thread."

The door opened, voices emitted from the entrance. Tara nodded as Eugene got onto the bed.

"This isn't necessary Negan," Rick's voice echoed, his tone clearly angry and tense.

"You sure you haven't seen your boy?" Negan replied, his voice oddly cool for talking about such a serious matter.

"I'm sure!"

There was a low chuckle. "Don't get all fucking worked up on my Grimes."

Eugene looked at Tara, she hadn't made a single stitch. Her hand was trembling too much. Eugene placed his hand on her own.

"It's alright," Eugene whispered.

She took in a deep breath and nodded. Tara started to stitch. Just as she was about to make the fourth stitch, the door burst open. The two looked over to see Negan walking in, behind Rick and Jordan. Rick was surprised to see Eugene where his son was supposed to be. Quickly his eyes scanned the room and spotted the closed closet door, if anything – his son had to be in there.

"What the fuck is this party?" Negan asked. He looked from Tara to Eugene, he grinned at the casted hand.

"A piece of metal flew back at him," Tara said quickly. "Caught him in the jaw."

Negan clicked his tongue, using Lucille, he forced Tara aside as he walked up to Eugene. Even though he was seated, the sadistic leader didn't see the fear.

"You've come a long way from when you first knelt," Negan congratulated. "However it doesn't seem like you know when to quit."

Tara was about to speak when Rick shook his head.

"Still trying to help out with one fucking hand? Make any bullets lately?"

"No," Eugene answered.

"Good, you hear what happened?"

Eugene remained quiet. Tara finished stitching and taped gauze over it."

"You former student escaped, along with this shithead's son!"

The temperature in the room seemed to drop drastically. Negan moved from the cot.

"Disappeared!" he continued, walking around the room. "Took all the rations, _my_ bullets, and fucking left, cut right through the fucking fence! Can you believe that shit? I mean...kids today – right?"

No one spoke. Negan grabbed the closet door and pulled, it didn't give.

"Broken piece of shit," Negan commented. He turned to Eugene. "You gonna fix that?"

"I can with proper tools," Eugene said.

 _Wham!_ Someone screamed off to the side but Eugene didn't see who. It was a few seconds before realizing he was on the ground, pain blooming in his chest where Lucille had stabbed him hard. He felt arms grab him and pull him up onto the cot.

"Leave him alone!" Tara shouted stepping between the man and the sadistic leader.

"Tara!" Rick cried stepping forward but Lucille was pointed at him.

"Let's not all get fucking excited, all at the same fucking time!"

Negan turned to Eugene who was nursing his bruising sternum.

"That's the wrong fucking answer, so let's try again. Are you gonna fix the fucking broken door?"

The man pretended to ponder, however he knew the answer that was expected. But if he said it too soon then Negan would know it's a lie. After a few minutes of caring for his injury, Eugene gave a sigh of defeat.

"...No..."

An impregnable silence lingered over the five. After what seemed like eternity, Negan gave a nod in satisfaction.

Rick watched the scene before him, it was starting to get more and more ridiculous, he wasn't even allowed to let Eugene fix a fucking door!

"Anything else?" Rick demanded through gritted teeth.

"Guess that will fucking due for now," he said slinging Lucille over his shoulder. Negan was about to walk out of the door when he suddenly turned.

"Oh...there is actually something else."

Rick scowled.

"What?"

Negan snapped his fingers and Jordan quickly stepped forward and pulled Tara to him. The Saviour gripped the young woman tightly as she struggled to break free. Rick rushed to her aid but nearly caught Lucille in the face.

"What are you doing?" Rick demanded.

"If you find your son, you can have your medic back," Negan said as if he were speaking to a child. "And if not...well then, we can always use another medic."

"Clinic's full," Jordan reminded. "Seven people working in there."

Negan shrugged. "Then we'll find some other use for her." He looked at Tara who had a fearful expression, "heard you were good at doing supply runs too."

The sadistic leader walked out with Jordan and their captive in toe. Rick and Eugene followed close, but each knew that there was nothing to be done.

Outside, the Alexandrians' gathered and watched as Tara was forced into the back of the jeep. She watched fearfully as the doors closed, sealing her in. People gathered around Rick and Eugene, seeing the expressions on the men's faces didn't give them any hope.

"Rick...," Michonne whispered.

The leader didn't respond - he didn't know how to.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: _Sorry for updating late, RL has being a bit hectic lately. This will be the last chapter for this year, will most likely update sometime in Jan. Thanks for reading, Spitfire47._

* * *

Carl stared at the slated door blankly. His mind went over the ordeal that had occurred just a few feet away from him. He drew in a shaky breath as his fingers fumbled over the gauze. He found the knot and tried to undo it, but he couldn't. For some reasons, his fingers didn't work and just did useless turns over the tight knot. A sudden burst of energy surged in Carl and he ripped the gauze open. The cloth whipped free of the bars and the teen kicked the doors open.

 _They want a broken door? Fine, a broken fucking door!_

Carl walked out ignoring the numbing sensation in his bare foot. He rushed out of the infirmary and into the main yard. His heart dropped as he saw Aaron lock the doors.

"Dad...," Carl whispered as he rushed over. "Dad!"

The father turned and muttered a few words to Daryl who nodded. The hunter walked over to the teen and grabbed him by the upper arm.

"Let me-."

"Come on kid," Daryl interrupted.

Carl pulled against him but it didn't work. He looked over to see Eugene by the entrance in a conversation with his dad, his expression was desperate but ghosted with anger. Abraham looked at the former teacher with slight apprehension, as if he expected Eugene to lunge at Rick in anger despite him being not violent. Daryl gave another impatient tug.

"Le- aw fuck," the hunter cursed.

Carl looked down to see a small blood stain at the bottom of his foot. He lifted his foot to see a sliver on the heel, he wondered why he hadn't felt it earlier. Without a word, Daryl pulled the teen along easily and back to the infirmary.

In the infirmary, Carl was forced back into his room. Daryl looked over at the kicked in door, now understanding where the sliver came from. He forced the teen to sit and called for the young man. He had come out from his hiding place with a solemn expression as he too heard what had taken place.

"Get him cleaned up before Rick sees," Daryl said.

The young man nodded and grabbed supplies. Carefully he took the sliver out, trying to keep as minimum pain as possible. It took a bit longer than expected but Carl didn't complain. The door opened and Carl turned to see his father rush in. Immediately the father wrapped his arms around his son, hugging him tight and not caring who saw. Daryl tapped the young medic on the shoulder and the two left.

Once the door was closed, Rick kissed Carl on the top of his head. He looked down at the bound foot and then over to the broken doors, he was able to put two and two together.

"Carl...," the father sighed.

The son didn't reply.

"Plea-."

"You let him take her."

"I didn't want him to! But right now we can't retaliate, it's too dangerous especially with most of our supplies in _their_ possession."

Carl turned towards the window to see everyone dispersed from the entrance. However the atmosphere was clearly drained, you can see it in everyone's faces and in their postures.

"Tomorrow you'll be moved back into the house."

Carl nodded even though the statement was obvious. But there was something else, the way his father said it and his tone was a bit off.

"Michonne is there too."

 _So that's it._

Carl just shrugged. This worried his father, especially since they haven't really talked about it entirely. Plus with everything going on about Lyra, he thought that Carl would've taken it as an insult to injury.

"You're...okay with it?"

Carl gave his father a look. "It's not like I'm going to say no since it's not going to change anything."

"I just wanted to let you know. We'll give you space if you need it."

 _Need a lot more than just fucking space..._

But Carl just nodded blankly again. Rick looked over at the broken doors but didn't say anything. He'll worry about it later.

"I'll see you tomorrow son."

"...yeah dad."

With a heavy heart, the father turned and left.

XXXXXX

Rosita walked out of Heath's house with Dr. Carson who immediately went over to the infirmary. She went towards Eugene's house. Rosita stole a glance over at the entrance to see no one there, as if avoiding it on purpose based on the actions that had happened only a few moments ago. Ignoring the people around her, she continued to towards the house when she heard someone call her name. Rosita turned and stiffened as Abraham came up to her.

"What is it Abraham?" she asked, her eyes not meeting his.

"I need you to keep an eye on Eugene for me," he said getting straight to the point.

"No shit."

Rosita turned to leave when Abraham grabbed her wrist.

"I'm serious Rosita," the ex-sergeant said. "With everything going on, I can't say what he's going to do."

"He can't do anything Abraham," Rosita replied wrenched her hand from his grip. "For fuck sakes, the guy has a broken hand!"

"I'm jus-."

"Maybe once in a while you can visit." Rosita shot back as she continued to head to the house. "Check on him yourself!"

Abraham was about to respond when she slammed the door shut.

Inside the young Hispanic leaned against the door. She looked down to see her hands give a slight shake as she swallowed. She had never spoken to Abraham like that and after he broke up with her, she would mostly just avoid him. Rosita knew that it was going to be a bit hard talking to him, but never expected herself to say things like that.

"Rosita?"

She looked over to see Eugene coming out of his room.

 _Must've being the door._

"I'm fine," Rosita said heading over to her room.

"I think we should talk," Eugene said.

"About what?"

"What happened last night."

Rosita let out a small sigh. "It was...I was going through something Eugene, I don't know what it was. I don't want to talk about it."

"So I'm just supposed to ignore that you came into my room nearly half naked?"

The colour in Rosita's face drained. "As a matter of fact, yes, you are! Like I said I don't want to talk about it."

Eugene was about to speak when she slammed the door to her room shut. He remained outside her room, just staring at the door. It seemed that she didn't recall the part where she had asked him to hold her, but Eugene knew that if he wanted to continue to survive the apocalypse – he couldn't mention that _ever_.

XXXXXX

The next day, the father was true to his word and had Carl moved back into his room. Dr. Carson was to be driven back Hilltop by Heath and then go on a supply run to see what there is in neighbouring towns. Aaron was to check out the Kingdom and observe for a few days. Most everyone minded their own business, the door to the Grimes house kept opening and closing constantly through the morning with people demanding to see Rick.

Carl was in his room resting. In his hand was the map Stacy had given him. Even though it was given to Rick on the day Abraham and Carl returned, the father had given it back to his son. Carl didn't say anything when it was returned, he knew that it was an attempt from his dad to make amends for what had happened. Rick knew that the map truly belonged to Lyra, so upon giving it to his son he thought it would help him heal.

The teen gently placed his hand over the small drawing of the factory where they were held. Then it traced the path over to the Sanctuary, then to Alexandria, Hilltop and finally the Kingdom. He gave a small sigh as his eye went back to the Sanctuary. There was a knock at the door and Carl stuffed the map under the blanket.

"Yeah? Come in."

It opened to reveal Rick.

"Lunch is on the table."

Carl nodded and got off the bed. He tried to conceal the wince as he placed pressure on where the sliver had being. Rick noticed.

"I can bring the food in here if-."

"I'm fine dad," Carl said walking past his father. The two walked to the dining room where Michonne was feeding Judith. Carl sat down beside his sister.

"How are you feeling Carl?" the sword-woman asked.

"Fine," he said monotone.

Judith started to whine, refusing food and fussing.

"I'll put her down," Rick said coming over. Carefully he lifted his daughter out of her crib and disappeared into a room.

"I'm sorry about Lyra."

Carl scowled. "She isn't dead."

"I didn't say she was," Michonne replied.

"Then what the hell are you sorry for?"

"For what we had to do," she countered hardening her tone against the teen's growing hostility. "But what you don't ge-."

"No, I get it," Carl interrupted. "I'm Rick's son and Lyra was a liability. Makes perfect fucking sense."

Carl rose from his chair and turned ready to leave when he bumped into his father. The atmosphere felt like it had plummeted. Carl tried to move around his dad but Rick grabbed him by the upper arm.

"You are my son," Rick reminded, "and I promised your mother that I would keep you and your sister safe, no matter what."

A chill rushed over the son as he recalled his mother's last peaceful face. Carl opened his mouth ready to speak but closed it not trusting the words that would come out. Memories started to collage in the teen's mind, from when his mother was alive and well, to her pregnancy and finally his father's delusional episodes of his 'mother.'

Carl pulled his arm from his father who didn't give resistance and left.

XXXXXX

 _Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Eugene ran a hand over his face as he got up from the desk. He walked out the door, came face to face with Rosita's room and had a sudden urge to knock on it.

 _Bang! Bang! Bang!_

First he'd deal with whoever was at the door. He walked over and pulled it open surprised to see his visitor.

"Ca-."

The teen rushed past him and into the living room. Eugene closed the door and walked over in time to see Carl pull down the blind.

"What the-."

"I need your help."

Eugene's eyes widened. "What?"

Carl pulled out Lyra's map and handed it to him.

"What's this?"

"What we use to go to Hilltop. Do you have car keys?"

Eugene looked at the teen incredulously.

"Carl we can't go to the Sanctuary, there are Saviours looking for you Carl! Besides I don't think that you'll make it."

"I've being in the Sanctuary before," Carl countered.

"What?"

"Yeah...He showed me."

Eugene raised an eyebrow. "He showed you? Just one day randomly decided to let his biggest opponent's son see the inside of his place?"

Carl blushed as he caught the sarcasm. Immediately the teen bowed his head.

"Look I need your help alright? Even if it's dropping me off at Hilltop, I'll find the rest of the way with this." Carl waved the map.

"Like hell you are!"

The two turned to see Rosita standing at the entrance to the living room. She had her gun at her hip, a bag on her shoulder and a set of keys in her hand.

"We'll take you as close to the Sanctuary as possible," Rosita said. "That key that you have opens a back door right? You can climb aboard one of their supply vans, get in that way. Wait until it's clear and then sneak into that bastard's factory."

"He won't know where Lyra is being kept," Eugene said.

"I might know someone who can help me," Carl said cryptically. "Plus where Lyra is, Tara may be there as well. You guys will help me right?"

"It'll have to be more than just us though," the former teacher said. "We need help from the other communities in case something goes wrong."

"Nothing will go wrong!" the teen argued.

"You don't know that Carl. Negan's smart, and if he figures something's up then he will attack. Plus you're supposed to be missing remember? Out in the forest all on your own? Also Tara's in the Sanctuary, he'll kill her if he even so much as thinks that Rick is going to retaliate."

"We'll figure it out later," Rosita said. "If we're going to do anything it needs to be now."

The two nodded.

XXXXXX

It was easy for Rosita and Eugene to get a vehicle from the garage. Olivia was in there and she merely told her that she was going to get some supplies. She was concerned about Eugene's broken hand but Rosita dispersed any concerns.

While they were getting the car, Carl had climbed over the wall and was waiting for them a little down the road. He killed a walker when it came too close for comfort. Once done, he sat just on the edge of the field. Carl scratched the tip of his knife into a piece of wood due to boredom when he heard something come down the road. He looked up to see a familiar cube van coming down the road. Staying low to the ground and using the incline to his advantage, the teen moved closer. He watched the vehicle go by. As soon as it had gone completely, Carl rushed from his hiding place and onto the road. He took out his gun and levelled it stead. _Bang!_

The cube van came to a screeching halt as the bullet busted the tire. Carl ran back down the slope and fell to the ground. He could hear cursing from where he was. Creeping closer, he was able to make out words.

"Who the fuck shot it?" a Saviour cursed.

"Dunno, didn't see no one," the other replied.

"Fuck man, we gonna be late. Negan'll kill us."

"Don't worry, so long as we get the supplies back we'll be fine. Just say that one of those shithead Alexandrian's shot at us."

"Fucking hell man..."

"Just let me talk bud."

Carl waited as they changed up the tire. It didn't take them long and Carl took off his hat as he inched up the incline, belly to the ground as he heard the tools being put away. He looked over edge to see one already in the passenger. The door slammed indicating the driver was in. Carl watched as the passenger turned his head to his friend then took his chance. He dashed across the road and stepped into the van as quietly as possible. Unscrewing one of the bottles of what looked like syrup, he poured it onto the asphalt carefully. Once finished he took the empty bottle to the back with him and sat on the ground as he felt the van lurch forward.

 _Sorry guys..._ Carl took the map and key out of his pocket. _What happened to Lyra and Tara is my responsibility...I've got this._

He looked back at the road knowing that his message was still there.

XXXXXX

The ride was less than comfortable especially in the back. But Carl didn't make a sound. He looked around to see weapons and food stacked in the cube van wondering where they had gotten all of this. Then he answered his own questions. The Kingdom – whatever it is. But right now, it was another community like Alexandria stuck underneath Negan's thumb. Carl felt himself scowl. _Not for long._

The ride continued for a while. Carl hoped that Eugene and Rosita got his message soon, he knew that neither would like it and might even run back to his father to tell him. Carl didn't care though. He's doing something, saving his friends and saving his girlfriend. But it was more than that, Lyra had a skilled trade which was valuable and had already shown her worth back at the prison. Carl was sure that with a little...a lot of begging, his dad would get her to work for Alexandria.

However, Carl couldn't help but think about himself and Lyra. Would there still be a them after this? What did Negan do? Would Dwight actually tell his leader about the pair? Or would Negan be able to put two and two together like the disfigured Saviour predicted? Carl leaned against the wall as he continued to think.

Suddenly the truck came to a stop sending the teen crashing into the wall. His heart stopped as he feared the Saviours heard him but nothing. All he heard was the moan of the walkers in their pen.

"Where the fuck have you guys being?" a voice called to the pair.

"Shut up, we gotta shot at!"

"What? By who?"

"Fucking Alexandrians."

"Did you kill the fucker?"

"Naw, didn't see 'em. Where's Negan?"

"Getting ready to do some ironing."

Carl felt his heart drop. He remembered what Lyra had told him about the iron, he couldn't believe that he was actually doing it. Apparently, his feelings were felt through the others.

"Shit man... Honestly, I don't know about that shit. This is like next level of fucked-uppery."

"From what I heard, that chick deserves it more then the men who try and have a quickie with Negan's wives. Being pissing on his rules since day one, thinking she's top shit and all that. Then she betrays us to those fucking Alexandrians, probably told them about us and shit."

One Saviour gave a grunt as if agreeing.

"Right, we'll be there in a sec. Need to unload this shi-."

"Naw, he's doing it right now. Come on guys."

Carl listened as the footsteps receded. His heart raced along with his shallow breaths. He waited in silence for a few moments before slowly jumping out of the cube van.

It was completely empty. He could hear voices coming from inside the factory on the main floor. Carl looked over at the pen and felt a lump grow in his throat. Chained in the middle was Stacy, still in her skimpy outfit as well as turned. Numerous bite marks were on her body, blood soaked the area she was shackled too.

 _I'm so sorry._

Carl turned away and headed towards the factory. Just as he was about to reach the entrance, an arm slipped around his waist and a hand slapped over his mouth pulling him away just as the door opened. Carl stayed frozen against his captor as two Saviours walked out talking, not even looking back. The arms slowly released him and Carl shifted away a bit to see it was the teen nurse. Carl was about to speak but the nurse shook his head.

They waited for a little bit and then Carl saw the two Saviours return with what looked like a skinny lump between them, however Carl knew that it was Lyra. His heart leapt to his throat as he involuntarily stepped forward. He wanted to take her away before she received the iron, but that would mean exposing him to over a hundred armed men and Negan himself. Clenching his fists, the door opened and just as it was about to close, the teen nurse rushed forward. He held the door open slightly allowing both to slip through and then the door closed.

Inside the teen nurse pointed to Carl's hat and he nodded back taking it off knowing that it would alert Negan. Carl tried to move forward but the other held him back, shaking his head. Carl let out a shaky breath as he forced himself to remain. People around him didn't pay attention to him or the teen nurse.

Suddenly everyone knelt as if an enormous pressure pushed everyone to the ground. Carl followed suit but couldn't keep out the sick feeling in his stomach. He looked over to see the teen nurse grimace slightly having a hard time keeping his true feeling out of his expression too. Carl felt a tap on his arm and he rose with the teen. Through the gaps of people, he saw Lyra tied to a chair. It was clear she was having a hard time concentrating.

"Most people aren't comfortable, and I promise that I won't make this a habit," Negan said as he walked down the stairs. His movements were purposely slow and almost intimidating. "But, over and over, she's broken these rules. She's disobeyed order, she's disobeyed me."

"The rules keep us alive," the crowd answered.

Negan gave a smile showing his appreciation of the response. He looked over at Lyra who stared defiantly at him. He turned to Dwight who handed him welding gloves. Negan handed Lucille to a nearby Saviour then put the gloves on. He said something to Lyra but at the very back, Carl had a hard time hearing. The teen's heart rose to his throat as Negan took the iron from the rod. Then he pressed it against Lyra's face.

" _Argh!"_

The pitched scream ripped into Carl who felt like he was going to throw up. From where he was, he could catch the waft of burning flesh.

Carl felt his jaw clenched tightly. His hands were balled into tight fists at his side, not caring about his fingernails digging into his palms. Carl felt himself breath heavily, a nudge at his side tried to alert him but Carl was too occupied with what was in front of him.

"Hope you enjoyed the show."

Carl turned to see a club strike him, effectively knocking him out.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: _Sorry for the long wait, went on longer than I intended but things became too busy to have time to write. I will finish but updates may be a bit more sporadic for a little while. Spitfire47_

* * *

Eugene looked out the window into the fields in Hilltop. He looked back to see Rosita sitting at the table, her and Jesus were talking about what had happened two days ago.

The two had kept their deal to Carl. However when they got to the meeting site, they found a word scrawled over the ground in what looked like some sort of liquid: Hilltop. The two knew that it was written by Carl. At first, Rosita thought that the teen had gone to Hilltop until they walked a little further seeing evidence of burnt pieces of rubber, a shell casing and skid marks.

"He's gone to the Sanctuary," Eugene concluded.

"Why?" Rosita demanded. "That wa-."

"Must've being one of Negan's trucks passing through. Carl shot down the tire which would explain the bullet and pieces of rubber. The skid marks looks to be a smaller diametre than an actual truck tire, could be a donut or a smaller spare. He's not telling us where he is, he's telling us where he wants _us_ to go."

The ride to Hilltop was rather a tense one. Rosita had Eugene go over his thinking more than once to the point. where the former teacher felt like he was back in his class going over a lecture for the third time. As he spoke, Rosita would occasionally let out a curse of frustration in Spanish in a hushed tone.

When they got to the fences, it was Jesus who was at the front. He rolled the gate over and inquired what was happening. Jesus had taken the two to Gregory who seemed rather unconvinced that 'a mere boy', had thought of all that by himself. Nonetheless, he gave the two a trailer so long as they promised to be gone by tomorrow night.

The next morning Jesus woke the two.

"He's not going to help you," the man reinstated.

"We don't need his help," Rosita scowled.

"Then why would Carl want you to be here?"

The two looked at each other briefly. Rosita was about to speak when Eugene beat her too it.

"Can you help us?"

Both looked at the former teacher with wide eyes. Jesus was the first to snap out of the shock.

"And what use would I be?"

"You know this area better than any of us will, you've taken the paths and met people. Probably more people than we know that are currently in the area."

"Flattering."

"You can help us take down Negan."

Jesus nodded slowly. Eugene knew that the man had seen the reasoning, but that wasn't the problem.

"You know someone," Rosita said breaking the silence.

Jesus looked at her. "He's a bit...flamboyant."

"And that means?"

Jesus didn't respond for a few moments. It was clear he was conflicted with how much to tell. Plus it was clear that he still didn't fully trust Rick and the Alexandrians.

"Dwight...has being delivering information behind Negan's back to a community nearby."

Eugene and Rosita's jaw dropped.

"He's being going out in guise of community check ups, hunting, supply runs...basically anything that suits the occasion when Negan spills important information. He's being delivering it to one community in particular."

"Why would he do that?" Eugene asked. "Thought he was loyal to Negan."

"He wants Negan to be defeated. A lot of people do."

"Why didn't you tell us this before?" Rosita demanded.

Jesus gave her an angered glare. "Can you blame us? We didn't know what side you were on! Rick was underneath Negan's thumb, desperate to get his son back. If we told you information then who knows how he would've reacted. We had to think to worst and believe that Rick, or one of you, would tell Negan."

"So why the change of heart?" Eugene asked.

The man's expression slowly dissipated. He let out a small breath.

"I'm going by chance," Jesus admitted. "But I do believe that Rick will be an asset when the time comes."

"He will," Eugene replied. "We all will."

Jesus nodded. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. He opened it up on the table and Eugene peered over Rosita's shoulder.

It was a roughly drawn map of the area. Inside each of the communities were names of the leaders and those close by to them. Eugene looked at all the names inside the Kingdom.

"King Ezekiel?"

"Like I said...flamboyant."

"What's the Kingdom?" Rosita asked.

Jesus gave a small smile. "If Dwight gets Carl and Lyra out of the Sanctuary that's where he will take them."

XXXXXX

Carl woke slowly. His head pulsed continuously, it was when he turned his head the pain increased. It felt like a drill had being jammed straight into his head. The teen grit his teeth as his hands instinctively clenched, as if trying to block the pain.

"You're fucking lucky that Jordan didn't crack your skull."

Carl slowly opened his eye. It landed on Dwight, who was sitting off to the side. If Carl couldn't take the hint that the Saviour was pissed off before – he sure as hell took the hint now. The man's eyes were narrowed on the teen, his left eye seemed to deepen the burn scars on his face, making him seem more angrier.

"What the actual hell, were you thinking?" His words were tense as if Dwight was taking every nerve in his body not to throttle the boy.

"I was thinking about Lyra," Carl shot back.

"But getting Aiden involved? Are you that stupid?"

"Who's Aiden?"

Dwight's eyes shot open. "Seriously? The kid who helped you sneak into the ironing, the one who stitched you up when you first got here!"

Carl felt his breath stick in his throat. He thought back to the kindness that the teen had showed him, and he had never even asked his name. Maybe the moments they had met weren't the best for introductions but at least Carl could've thought of someway to get it.

"How is he?" Carl asked.

"Kid's dad beat him quite badly," Dwight admitted. "Knocked him flat for several days, last time I saw him Aiden was grovelling for Negan's forgiveness."

Carl clenched his fists. It was his fault, all of it. He should've sent Aiden away when he was inside the building, he should've gotten the teen to move to a different spot. Though, in the back of his mind, a part of his was chastising Aiden for giving up, for grovelling to the man who had him trapped here. Aiden had shown defiance, courage but now was giving up and not standing up against him. Just like his dad had done when Negan had encountered him for the first time, just like...

"You're going to see him."

Carl looked over at Dwight.

"Negan wants to see you, seems like you're next in line to beg."

"I'm not doing anything for him," Carl snapped back.

Dwight stood abruptly, the chair clattered. He grabbed Carl's chin forcing the teen to look at him.

"Alright listen up you little shit because I'm only going to say this once," the Saviour growled. "You do everythingthat Negan and the others tell you alright? I mean it – _everything._ And I can get you out of here."

Carl looked at Dwight incredulously.

"Wha-."

"I don't know about the other two, but you...I can see what I can do."

"You'd take me back to-."

"I'd be taking you to the Kingdom. It's a community that's a couple miles away from here. I've being in talks with their leader for a bit."

Carl nodded. "An attack?"

Dwight leaned in. "You keep your mouth shut about it, and you do what you're told."

The Saviour grabbed Carl's arm and pulled him out of bed.

XXXXXX

Outside, Dwight stuck close to Carl as he steered the teen to toward Negan's room. Neither spoke. In Carl's mind, he was going over what Dwight had said to him. An attack with the help from the Kingdom. Carl remembered seeing it written on the map Stacy had drawn out. He was even more curious now to see what it actually was. His mind went over to Lyra. The remembrance of hearing her scream, and smelling the burning skin even all the way in the back.

"What's going to happen to her?" Carl asked, his voice low.

"Dunno," Dwight responded, "usually Negan kicks 'em out. Only way that he'll allow them to stay after an ironing is if they have a certain skill set that he likes. Lyra's a trades worker so that may work in her favour."

"May? Thought you sa-."

"Negan's already given her many chances. The only way to control her was to completely seclude her with her only hope of survival being on him. That's the reason why he placed her in the building trading bullets for rations."

Inside, Carl was marched up the stairs and forced to stop in front of the door. Dwight reached over and knocked. The door opened and the two walked in.

"Carl!"

The teen looked over to see Negan coming over. His teeth showing in a wide grin.

"Damn boy, you sure can take a fucking hit!" the leader said. He looked over at his Saviour. "Go check up on Lyra, make sure she's still breathing."

Wordless, Dwight left. Out of the corner of Carl's eye, he saw Sherry looking over at her former husband before turning away.

"Man I fucking love that look kid," Negan smiled giving Carl a firm slap on the back nearly pushing the teen over. "So fucking bad ass. I'm proud of you not being such a fucking pussy on covering it up kid. Good on you!"

Carl scowled, but winced as he felt the bruise pulse where the club had struck him. Silently, the teen chastised himself for being so weak.

"I apologize for Jordan's brutality," Negan said, seeing the pained expression on Carl's face. "The man can be a wild card. But hitting kids? No...that's where I draw the fucking line. I mean...there were fucking laws against that!"

"There were laws against killing," Carl scowled.

The sadistic leader grinned as he nodded. He leaned in so that he was eye to eye with Carl. "Suppose there was, but that can work both ways now can't it?" Negan rose, ruffling the teen's hair as he passed. "You hungry or something?"

Carl watched as Negan walked over to the table and sat down between two of his wives. He motioned to the chair in front. Slowly the teen walked over but remained standing refusing to sit down.

"You got fucking ten seconds to sit your fucking ass in that fucking chair," Negan said, his tone made it clear that Carl should listen.

Slowly he sat down. On the table in front of him was a tray of sandwiches.

"The girls eat up here," Negan said. "Now eat up, don't wanna send a corpse back to daddy."

Carl picked one and started to eat mechanically, not really tasting what he was eating.

"What's going to happen to Lyra?"

"You mean your girlfriend? Don't you worry about her, I'll take good care of her."

Carl looks around at the room seeing the women. He caught Sherry looking back.

"Get any fucking ideas boy and I'll send your hands back to your father. So don't make me bloody this room."

"Let Lyra go and you won't have to worry about it."

Negan started to laugh. "Damn you have balls kid, no wonder Lyra chose you." The leader stood up, staring the boy down. "Still… quite young, five year age difference."

"Yeah because it's clear you care about that crap."

Negan frowned. "Now I'm trying to make conversation boy. But if you want to get serious...you're the one who killed Steven…go on _boy_ tell me I'm wrong."

Carl glared back at Negan. But the scar on his hand where the piece of ceramic had cut him, tingled slightly. Defeated, the teen looked off to the side.

"That's what I thought. No wonder Jordan has such a fucking grudge for you."

Negan sat back down, he dismissed his wives. He gave each a possessive kiss on the lips before watching them leave.

"Steven was keeping an eye on Gregory for me," the leader explained. "Making sure that the old bastard wasn't hiding anything. Guess he figured that since Rick took over, giving you to me was some kind of fucking present or something."

"What would you have done?" Carl asked.

"I'm not like that boy. I would've sent you back to daddy," Negan grinned. "Along with my _generous_ proposal of course."

The teen glared but didn't respond.

"So have you and Lyra ever fucked?"

"That's none of your business," Carl snapped.

Negan grinned, knowing the answer before the teen could talk. Carl could feel the blush deepen and he turned away.

"Alright, fuck kid – sorry...shit. Keep the water works inside."

Carl scowled.

"She is a fire-brand that for fucking sure! But…you don't know everything."

"I know what I need to."

"To do what?"

"To save her."

Negan grinned, enjoying the teen's answer immensely. He got off the table, his shadow playing over Carl like a bait to a fish.

"You want to fucking save her?"

Negan whistled for the teen to follow him. Carefully Carl rose from the seat and walked over, closing the door behind him.

Outside, Dwight was waiting. Negan motioned the Saviour to follow. All three walked down the stairs, those who were on the floor immediately knelt as Negan walked down the stairs. Carl rolled his eyes in annoyance as he saw Negan grin. Carl looked out in the open remembering what had taken place just two days ago.

"What's going to happen to Aiden?" Carl asked.

Negan let out a low chuckle that sent chills down the teen's spine.

"That boy sure knows how to beg," the sadistic leader boasted. "Damn does he fucking ever, though I have to say, thought he'd never shut the fuck up. I mean...I get it right? You're fucking sorry, so end of fucking story right?"

The three walked outside and headed to a different part of the factory. Anyone they encountered knelt before their leader, quite literally worshipping each step Negan took. Carl couldn't help keep the disgust out of his face, but didn't say a word. He looked back at Dwight who gave him a small nod.

Carl was still trying to figure out why he was believing the Saviour. He was a Saviour! Everyone in the factory was loyal to Negan and groveled at his feet. Carl was quite sure that people would tell Negan if anyone would even so much as think of rebelling. However, if what Dwight said was true he hasn't being caught, thus being very careful with how he went about defying Negan. The teen wondered, who Dwight could go to? No would believe him and those who were too weak would just tell Negan.

They walked down the hallway, coming to a stop in front of a door. Carl could hear whispered noise coming from inside, he looked over to see Negan give a grin as he too heard the voices. Dwight stepped forward with the key and pushed the door open. The voices immediately stopped.

"Well look at fucking here," Negan said leaning against the door frame. Lucille was resting on his shoulder. Aiden looked at his leader terrified. Lyra, however, didn't even give a single glance. "Dwight did mention something about fucking talking!" The leader turned to the Saviour. "Or did you forget that fucking part?"

"I told them," Dwight said.

"I-I'm sorry," Aiden stammered, "pl-please sir..."

Negan pointed Lucille at the terrified teen. "You've done enough fucking talking. I don't want to hear another word from your fucking mouth."

Aiden bowed his head. Negan looked over at Lyra.

"I brought you some company, so you better be fucking greatful." Negan grabbed Carl by the collar of is shirt and threw him in. "More than you fucking deserve."

Carl felt the rough ground scrap his palms but he ignored the pain. He looked up at Lyra, who turned away. Shame rammed into Carl's heart making him feel sick.

"We'll check in on you kids in a little while."

Carl didn't hear the words. All he could do was listen helplessly as the door slammed shut, the key locking him in.


End file.
